Silent Fighter
by ll amanda lynn ll
Summary: She grew up in an abusive household, the youngest of five. And if you'd asked her, she'd say she would never stand a chance at having a good life. But when a strange man with a bowtie and a blue box stumbles into her life, she discovers a whole new world that lights up her heart. A world that would make her choose to be happy.
1. Prologue

**This is my very first Doctor Who FanFiction, which I have been planning since- well, probably since I started the show in July 2015. As you can see, it's taken forever to get off the ground, and I owe a lot of that to my beta readers Cheesesack and Soufflé'd. Without their help, I'm absolutely certain that this story would not be here right now.**

 **Basically, the idea for this story came about when I heard Amelia's epilogue, (and after I stopped crying) I started the next episode and he blatantly ignored what she said. Our Doctor did that. I didn't believe that, so here we are.**

 **Cover image by Wattpad's Book Chook**

 **Trigger warnings for child abuse, assault and suicide. Since I don't want to spoil anything at specific points, just assume it applies to the whole story and read at your own risk**

 **I do not own Doctor who or any of its characters. I do own Doctor Who socks, though. If that helps.**

Once upon a time, there was a couple. A perfectly lovely couple starting out in a perfectly lovely world with a promising future. They were madly in love and were looking forward to a very happy future.

The husband worked hard in school and established a good career, while his wife was pregnant with their first child, Jesse. During this time, they didn't have much money, but they were perfectly happy in their old, two-bedroom apartment. They couldn't afford most things they wanted, but that didn't matter; they had each other, which was enough.

They tried their best, though. They worked hard at giving their son everything he needed. The wife got a job at a convenience store just so they could get by. When their baby was six, and they had two more sons, Adam and Jacob, the husband got a promotion in his business.

They could afford all the nice things they wanted; a real house for their new family, to send their son to a good school, and even own their own car. As the husband's bank took off, the wife had another child, Riley. Their doctor warned them not to have another child, as it could threaten the woman's health.

And they didn't plan on another child, though the wife yearned for a daughter. They had absolutely no intention of risking the woman's life. But fell pregnant again. And, despite what she knew was best, she opted to keep the baby. The baby that would later be revealed to be a girl.

She prepared a nursery for her, preparing every little detail, everything would be perfect. She painted the walls of the nursery bright pink, with countless dolls and teddy bears.

Her own husband believed they were better off without the child. He feared losing her more than he feared his own death. But she was dead set on one more child, she had said. When she went into labor, she was still three weeks short of her due date. She called the paramedics, but by the time they got there, it was too late to move her. There wasn't much they could do but deliver the child in her own home, but they lacked the equipment they needed to help the mother. The woman died that night, at eleven thirty, with her husband next to her and her sons at the babysitters. She would never see her daughter.

The girl was named Adaline, and was born into a once happy family that was now suffering a great loss. The girl's father blamed her for the loss of his beloved wife. With all of the misplaced blame on her, she lost any chance of being happy. The wonderful life she was supposed to have was gone, stolen away from her in some cruel twist of fate. At night, left alone in her crib, she'd cry and cry and cry for want of food. But no one would come. Eventually, she just stopped crying. Stopped asking for what she wouldn't receive. Jesse would feed her before he went to school in the morning, and when he got home. But other than that, she was left alone.

She grew up like that, hated and blamed by her father, and to a much lesser degree, her brothers. She was the reason their home was so broken. She deserved every bruise, burn, slap, and any other means of punishment she received. It was all her fault. At least, that would be the answer of anyone in the family if they were asked. The girl even believed it. She was constantly told this, so what else was she going to believe?

I only know my mum from photos and the occasional story from Jesse, and maybe Dad. I love those stories. I live for those stories. She was pretty. And whenever she smiled, Jesse tells me it was like there were real stars in her eyes. Maybe that's why she was called Stella. The strange thing is, that's the only part of her I inherited. Her bright blue eyes. The ones with galaxies in them.

Dad was never the same after her loss, they tell me. He used to be happy, funny, kind. He used to be so much better. I wish he was still happy. He wasn't as family oriented as he once was. He became a workaholic, barely ever home, and when he was, he was either drunk, or he was

They don't really remember mum. Jesse does. Adam might remember her a little. Sometimes, I wish I could meet my mum. But most times I don't think I could handle it. I think I'd feel too guilty. Besides, whether I wanted to or not, there's no such thing as time travel.

At least, that's what I used to think.

I broke a vase when I was seven. It had been mum's. I didn't mean to, honestly, I didn't, but Dad still punished me.

"Please!" I begged. "Please, I'm sorry! I didn't mean to, I promise!" My voice was shrill, he started pulling me up the stairs and I knew we were going to his room. I started crying harder then, and it started getting harder to breathe.

That's the thing about dad's room, it was always dark in there. Looking back, though, I'm not sure if it was because of the dark oak wood and black furniture or if it's because of all the bad memories I had in there.

He hit me, throwing me onto the ground. I landed on my shoulder and let out a cry of pain. Tears were welling in my eyes, and I let out a choked sob, clutching my arm.

"I'm sorry," I gasped, closing my eyes and trying to block everything out. I felt his hand on my chin and he lifted my head so I was looking at him standing over me. "I'm so, so sorry."

"Don't you dare say anything else to me tonight," he hissed.

I sobbed and closed my eyes, feeling hot tears fall down my cheeks. I didn't open them again, even when I was certain he'd left. Probably to get a drink at the pub.

I don't know how long I lay there, my hands over my ears in a ball on the floor, my eyes still clenched shut, but I only opened them when I felt Jesse pull me into a sitting position. I remember that he looked sad. He offered me a tissue.

"Blow your nose," he ordered softly. He then handed me a wet rag to wipe my face with. I wiped all of the dirt and grimeaway, and tried to ignore the pain it caused me when I attempted to wipe the dried blood off of my arms.

"Why me?" I whispered, still worried that Dad might hear me. "I don't know what I did." He sighed, looking at me with pain in his eyes but his neutral mask still on.

"It's not your fault, Ada," he said in a hushed tone.

"What can I do to fix this?" I choked.

"Just do what he says."

"Will he stop hating me then?" I asked. I already knew the answer. Of course I knew. But the look in his eyes just confirmed it, and I think it broke my heart.

I didn't want to be in that house any more. I didn't want my brothers to be in the same house as me with their blame or their pity, I wanted to be able to breathe again. So I ran to the park and I sat at my favorite park bench. The one I did my homework on, the one Jesse took me to when I was small, and although I didn't know it yet, the one where I would meet the greatest man in the universe.

There shouldn't have been anyone else there, but there was. A man, looking disheveled and tired, walked out of a blue box a few minutes after I'd sat down. He turned around and shouted, "Extractor fans on!" It was then that I noticed the smoke coming out of his box. I wanted to ask him what he was doing, but my throat hurt too much and I was too tired. When he turned to face me, he looked confused for a moment, then very, very concerned.

"Well, who are you?" he demanded. I blinked, considering if I should tell this man. I supposed my name couldn't hurt.

"Ada," I whispered so I didn't strain my voice.

"Ah, Ada. Lovely name. Can you tell me what year it is, Ada?"

He was drunk. I knew this almost certainty. Dad got drunk sometimes. It was always scary, but Jesse said there were two kinds of drunks. Nice ones and violent ones. I had learned to trust my instincts and my instincts said that he was nice.

"Twenty-one seventy…mister, are you alright?" He simply grinned, smiling at me like I was the most brilliant thing in the world.

"Of course I am!" he exclaimed. "I've never been to this year before, is it nice?"

I blinked, slowly adjusting so I was sitting at full height.

"Sorry?" I asked.

"Is it nice, this year?" he repeated.

I shook my head. "No," I had said. "No, I don't think this year is very nice."

The man tilted his head. For a minute I thought he might ask me why I thought that, but then he asked, "How old are you?"

"Seven."

"Seven? Why are you all alone at night if you're seven?" he asked.

"You ask a lot of questions, don't you? And why is your box making that noise?" I raised my eyebrows at him, daring him to ask me another question. He turned to the box, and noticed the loud squeaking coming from it.

"Oh, no!" he exclaimed. He ran into the box and I started to wonder if it was cramped in there. What was squeaking in that thing anyways? How come he even had that box? I decided to ask him when he came back out, probably after he fixed whatever was wrong with it. But he didn't come out. Instead, the box started making a different noise, and then slowly disappeared.

"Okay," I breathed. "I'm going home."

Looking back on it, I was never absolutely sure that I hadn't imagined that. In all honesty, that was probably for the best.

I told Jesse about the man. I wasn't completely sure I had actually seen him. Jesse told me not to worry about it. I didn't know why he said that, but I was afraid to ask. In history, we learned that the blue box was used as a telephone over three centuries ago. What it was doing in my time was beyond me.

But this mystery didn't really bother me for long. After a couple months I just wound up forgetting about the entire experience altogether.

The next time I saw him was when I was nine. I was at school doing my work quietly and trying my best to get an A on the paper I was writing, when the intercom turned on. The headmaster told us school was finishing early, and to go straight home. Everyone was sort of scared by this, but I simply packed up my bags and left.

Most people's parents picked them up, some took the bus, but I walked home. I noticed when I exited the school gates that soldiers were standing outside of them. They were armed, like they were waiting for something. I didn't say anything to them, I was scared of soldiers. They never looked at me, though. I mean, who would pay the undersized nine-year-old any attention?

I was just thinking about what could possibly be happening, when someone ran into me, knocking me over. I didn't scream, I just gasped and covered my face with my arms. I was wearing my brother's old shirt, which was too big for me, so when I fell it revealed my shoulders. I looked up to see the man again; the man from the park, but he wasn't looking directly at me. His gaze was fixed on my bruised shoulder. I quickly adjusted my shirt, blushing furiously, and stumbled to my feet. He grabbed my arm securely, helping me up and asking, "Are you alright?"

I nodded "of course," and faked a smile, though I was fairly certain it didn't reach my eyes.

"Look, sorry about last time. Something happened with the T.A.R.D.I.S. and I had to dash. Really should stop doing that." I frowned, but decided that was the least of my problems. "What year is it now?"

I giggled at this. "Why do you ask me that? Just check the calendar."

He frowned. "Why would I do that? Calendars are rather unreliable. And besides, I trust you more."

It was my turn to frown. "But why would you trust me?"

"Why are you out all alone? Does your mum know you're out here?" he asked. I shrugged nonchalantly.

"Everyone got sent home from school early. My dad worksduring the day, so I walked."

"Well, it's not safe here. Let me walk you home."

I shook my head, "No, that wouldn't be good. I have to go, now..."

"Are you al-"

"Adaline!" I turned to see Jesse and Adam running towards me. "Ada, where the Hell have you been?" Adam panted, clearly not used to running.

Jesse knelt down in front of me and put his hands on my shoulders. I flinched slightly but he didn't seem to notice.

"School, then I started walking home." I said. "I'll help make lunch when I get home. Promise."

He sighed. "God damn it, Ada, that's not what I'm talking about. Haven't you seen yet?" he asked.

"Seen what?"

"Aliens. There's aliens in London. Everyone has to be home, now." I nodded and shrugged his hands off my arms.

"Who's this?" he asked. I glanced behind me to see the man watching us.

"No one. C'mon, Dad'll be upset if we take too long."

"Ada," I turned to look at the man. "Don't be scared of the Aliens. I'll take care of 'em." I furrowed my brow, but decided not to say anything.

I never found out exactly what happened to those Aliens. I heard they tried to start a war, but I also heard that they were only here to steal our technology, so I didn't think much of those rumors. The news didn't include anything helpful either. They were aliens and they tried to kill us, it's over now so don't be scared.

But I liked to believe that that man had stopped them. That he had taken care the aliens like he'd said. I liked to believe that this man, whoever he was, was looking out for me. Like my guardian angel. How self-absorbed is that?

For months after that, I thought about that man a lot. I wanted to know why he thought he could deal with the aliens. Why he had a box that could disappear and reappear. He seemed important. He dressed in really old fashioned clothes, so maybe that was a clue.

I think he suspected something about me. About my home life. Some people have asked me if I was okay. Sometimes the other kids questioned me about my bruises, or the cigarette burns on my arms, or the cuts I sometimes had. I never said. He was probably thinking about that too. I didn't know why he would care. But he seemed like the type. The kind of person who cared about everyone, who honest to God cared. I'd never met someone like that before.

I learned to hide my injuries eventually, to push away people who would ask questions. They were annoying, anyways.

He kept popping up throughout my life, in the oddest places. Perhaps the oddest was when I was thirteen, and he came over for dinner with my dad of all people. He apparently worked with him, but I didn't quite believe that.

"This is very good, Ada," the man said, gesturing to the lasagna I had made. I shrugged.

"Just an old recipe." A thought struck me and I looked up at him.

"What's your name?" I asked. I felt dad's glare on me but I ignored it. This question was worth pissing him off.

"I'm the Doctor." I nodded, looking back at my food. "Not going to ask me anything else?"

I looked up at him. "Should I?" I said. It really wasn't. Everyone in my family had really old fashioned names, who cared if he was called the Doctor?

"Well there's a first," he muttered, a bit of disappointment evident in his face.

I was quiet for most of dinner while dad launched into a full on banking conversation with the Doctor. According to the Doctor, Dad shouldn't invest in the new restaurant chain springing up. Apparently it would go bankrupt within two years. He included everyone in his conversations, which was odd for a business partner of dad's.

"Where's the loo?" the Doctor asked.

"Down the hall, third door on the right." Riley said.

"Thank you." He grinned cheerfully. I wondered how anyone could be so cheerful constantly. As soon as the door shut behind him, dad turned to me.

"Do you know him?" he hissed fiercely. I shook my head quickly. "Then how does he appear to know you?"

I bit my lip. "I- I don't know," I whispered, staring at my hands in my lap. Dad slammed his fist on the table.

"Don't lie to me, girl!" he hissed. I whimpered slightly, feeling my throat go dry.

"I just… saw him in passing a few times…" I muttered.

"In passing? What the Hell does that even mean?" he demanded. I shook my head.

"I just… I've seen him a few times before." I whispered.

"In passing? Enough for him to know your name?"

"He asked! I swear I didn't mean for this to happen!"

"Let me tell you something, if this man doesn't sign the deal I want him to, it's on your head."

I swallowed hard, nodding and looking down at my plate. I suddenly felt like I wasn't very hungry anymore. The door opened but I didn't dare look up.

"Ah, it appears I've interrupted something," the Doctor said. "I can leave if you—"

"No, no. You're not interrupting anything at all." Dad flashed him one of those fake smiles of his and gestured to the Doctor's chair.

"So, Doctor," Dad began. "You are awfully young to be in such a high position at the bank."

"So were you," the Doctor said, frowning at the plate of beans that I placed in front of him.

"Ah, so you researched me then," Dad said.

"Yes…in a manner of speaking."

I sat back down at my seat and started picking at my food, not daring to look up.

"That's a very wise decision. So, Doctor. What do you think about signing that contract I mentioned earlier?" He probably thought he was being subtle. That's one of dad's weaker points. He's not subtle at all.

"Ah…yes, that." the Doctor coughed uncomfortably. "I…yeah, I suppose I'll sign it." He let out a sigh that sounded like it was a mix between exhausted and exasperated.

"Excellent, I'll just pull up the contract and you can sign it." He opened his brief case and dug around in it before sighing, closing his eyes, "I left the contract at the office. If you will just come with me to get it—"

"If it's all the same to you, I'll just stay here while you get it." Dad blinked in confusion, but quickly recovered.

"Of course. I'll only be a few minutes."

He smiled and disappeared through the door. I started clearing the table, picking up the plates and glasses. I stacked them up, trying to balance it all on one arm when the Doctor said

"Oh, Ada, let me help you with that."

I blinked in surprise. "Um…no, that's alright." But he was already on his feet, rolling up his sleeves and picking up the dishes. I didn't know how to turn him down at this point so I just let him. He set the dishes down in the sink and turned on the tap.

"Doctor," I called. "Dishwasher." I gestured to the dishwasher.

"You have to rinse them first." The Doctor sighed as if I were a disappointment.

"What is this, the fifteenth century?" I scoffed.

"The dishwasher." I repeated, emptying all of the plates into it. The Doctor frowned in suspicion, and pulled out a silver metal stick. He pushed a button and it made a strange noise, glowing green. He examined it and hummed.

"Last time I used a dishwasher it was in the twenty first century." I laughed.

"Sure. Anyways, are you really going to sign that contract?" I asked, typing some settings into the control panel of the dishwasher. The lights turned on inside, and I started loading it.

"Now, how is that any easier than a light switch?" the Doctor grumbled.

"You didn't answer my question," I said. I didn't look at him. I was afraid my selfish intentions would show with just one second of eye contact.

"I…" I turned to see him scratching his neck. "I don't know? I don't work for the company. Heck, I just showed up this morning to see where he worked and maybe steal a donut! I didn't think anyone would believe I actually worked there!"

I faced him to see he looked completely serious and obviously distressed. And I laughed.

"Oh, my gosh," I wheezed. "You're in some deep shit."

He waved him arms wildly. "What am I supposed to do?" he demanded.

"Follow your heart."

"Can I trust him?"

"Definitely not."

"Will I be letting my bank down by signing that contract!?" I laughed again.

"You don't work there!" I exclaimed through laughter. He rolled his eyes at me.

"Some help you are. I read the contract ten times and I still have no idea what it means! And I know everything."

I snorted. "Apparently not," I sighed. "In all seriousness, it's not your bank. You don't work there. They're going to scan your signature and realize that you don't work there. Your signature is null and void, so, regardless of whether or not it's the right decision, you should just sign it because it literally doesn't matter."

"Is it the right decision?"

I shook my head. "No, probably not. It'll ruin "your" bank. Probably why he was so pleased it's you he had to work with. You give off that innocent, gullible vibe."

He raised his eyebrows.

"Not very nice, your dad," he said. I nodded.

"No, not particularly. It's not his fault though. Now, he's going to be back in three minutes with the contract. Try and show some dignity. You're sweating, go wash up." He nodded and went to the sink to wash his hands and face.

I didn't see him for a while after that. I was worried that dad had scared him away forever. But in December that same year, I was crying in the same park as the first time I saw him. I was staring at the stars, thinking. Jesse once told me when someone dies they become a star, and since mum was so amazing she was probably the biggest one out there, watching down on us. I never believed him. But it was nice to think about sometimes. Comforting. Tears were still rolling down my cheeks when someone sat down next to me. Naturally, I flinched, scared for a minute before I saw who it was.

"Hello, Ada," the Doctor greeted softly.

"Hi," I whispered.

"What's wrong?" he asked.

"Nothing… just thinking…"

"About?" he asked. I was quiet for a long moment.

"Ada, are you alright?" He asked.

No.

"Fine," I muttered.

"Ada…"

"My brother told me once that when you die, you turn into a star. And if you were really kind in your lifetime, you were a big star. He said that my mum is up there, watching down on us when things get dark, and brightening the path a little when we can't see. Do you believe that?" I asked.

He hesitated. "I… I don't think—"

"It doesn't matter anyways," I sighed. "It's just a nice idea."

"Are you ever going to tell me what makes you so sad?" he asked.

"Are you ever going to stop asking?" I countered. I hesitated for a moment.

"Who are you?" I asked. "I mean really, who are you? I don't mean what's your real name. The Doctor is fine, but what do you do? Where do you live? Have you got a family?"

"No," he said after a minute. I turned to look at him, a questioning expression on my face. "No, I haven't got a family. Not anymore."

I hated living with my family. I hated how unfairly I was treated in comparison to the rest of them. I hated how obnoxious my brothers were, even though they were probably just as unhappy as I. But at the same time, I still owed everything I had to my family, and I couldn't imagine living without them. Because, as much as I loathed living with them, I loved them to death.

"I'm so sorry," I whispered. "That's awful."

He was quiet for a few minutes, and I didn't bother to break the silence. If he needed a moment, I'd give it to him. I understood.

"What about your Dad?" he asked.

"What about him?" I countered.

"What's he like? Family guy? Cold business man? I'm thinking it's probably the second one…"

"He's doing the best he can." I said.

"Why do you say that?"

"Because it's true."

He sighed. "He doesn't seem to be trying very hard."

"It's not easy… He has a full time job and five kids. He misses my mum. That's a lot for one person."

The Doctor shrugged again.

"Where do you live?" I asked.

"In my spaceship slash time machine."

I glanced at him, frowning. "You're completely serious, aren't you?"

"Of course."

I chuckled. "Alright, fair game," I sighed and got to my feet.

"Where are you going?" he asked.

"Home. I still have a downstairs to clean, and I'd like to get to bed before two am. School tomorrow."

"I told you, I have a time machine."

I chuckled again, turning to face him. "You're mad."

"Definitely," he smirked.

"See you soon, Doctor."

He kept in contact more frequently after that. Most of the time when I went to the store, he was there. He walked me halfway home from school at least three days a month, he'd be at the park half the time I was there, and he'd help me with homework. We had the weirdest relationship I could imagine.

I wasn't too disturbed by this, though. I know I should have been but I wasn't. I was lonely. I'd never had someone there who was just kind to me. Because the truth is, sometimes, when I was lonely, or scared because daddy was angry with me, the idea that he wouldn't let anything really awful happen to me kept me going. It's how I could breathe most days.

And when his visits just stopped, it was like my heart stopped beating.

 **She was a silent fighter,**

 **With a demon in her lung,**

 **And it stole her breaths right from her,**

 **Before they'd hardly passed her tongue,**

 **He was a silent fighter,**

 **Who was always taught to share,**

 **And held his breath when he was with her,**

 **Just so she could have his air.**

 **-E.H**

 **Thoughts? Do you love it? Hate it? You've read this far, so I'm sure you have an opinion. So please share it with me! I absolutely adore hearing what people think! I will update in two weeks!**


	2. Nothing Left

**Wassup peeps. Look! I said I'd update in two weeks- and now it's exactly two weeks later and I'm updating! Creepy, huh?**

 **This chapter is dedicated to everyone who reviewed on the last chapter! Thank you so much!**

 ***Trigger warning assault and abuse***

 **Look, guys. My Dad wasn't even born when Doctor Who started running, and he is remarkably old. (Love you Dad). The point is, there's no way I own Doctor Who- Are you kidding me? Would I be on this archive if I did? Probably.**

I groan quietly as my alarm clock wakes me from my sleep.

"Shut up." I mutter, and the tinny tune dims as if in response to my scalding tone. I close my eyes for another minute, attempting to fall back asleep. There's no reason for me to be awake this early, and I couldn't sleep until late last night, but sleep is now unachievable.

"Up and at 'em, I guess."

I'm not getting any more sleep, I suppose. I wearily stumble out of bed and order my closet open. I pull out black leggings and a bright red jacket and make my way downstairs.

When I arrive downstairs it's completely dark, and when I look out the window I see a giant moon and countless stars.

"Typical." I snort. "Show me outside." I say.

The screen on the window changes from a starry night to a foggy day. I grab an apple and bite into it, walking into the kitchen I open the control panel and go into notes, where Dad left my chore list for the day.

I sigh.

Go to the store, mop the downstairs bathroom, run laundry, and make dinner. Simple enough.

My cell starts buzzing in my pocket and I pull it out.

"Hello?" I ask.

"Hey Lady Bug." I smile at the nickname.

"Hey Jesse, what're you doing?" I ask.

"Just getting ready for work. So nothing interesting." I smile. Jesse has been calling me every day since he moved to America with his wife. I know that it's one of those things that will start out strong and die out in time, but for now I'm just enjoying getting to talk to him once or even twice a day.

"Hey, you're the one who got a job. Got a wife and house to pay for." I click my tongue and shake my head.

"Hey! It's not my fault I got caught in the trap society has set for me!" He cries, "Anyways, when are you getting a job?" He asks. I shrug.

"As soon as a magical being appears before me at night and says, 'Ada, I am the ghost of hardworking beings, and it is time for you to stop being a freeloader."

"I'm being serious."

"So am I. Dad won't let me move out until he finds me a proper husband. There's really no point." I say. "Anyways, how's Adriana?" I ask, referring to his wife.

He sighs. "She sends her love."

"Tell her I said hi."

"I will. Come over for her birthday next month, yeah?"

"I'll try my best."

"I've gotta go, tell Adam I told him he needs to brush his teeth." He says.

I laugh. "Yeah, yeah. I'll tell him, but I think he's going for a record or something, so I wouldn't hold my breath if I were you."

I pause, frowning. "Actually, if you do see him, hold your breath."

He laughs. "I've gotta go, love you Ada."

"Love you too, bye."

I sit down, closing my eyes for a second. Suddenly, I feel tired again. But it's probably not the kind of tired that gets fixed with sleep.

"Pull yourself together." I mutter, heaving myself to my feet. I elect to go to the store first, so I won't have to leave the house again today. I grab dad's card off of the mantel and my purse off of the floor.

Outside it's chilly, and I immediately pull my jacket tighter around me. I look around the street and see a few children running around, throwing a ball between themselves. They stare at me as I walk out of the garden and I make a point of trying not to look at them.

"My Mummy says that she's a freak." One whispers.

"My Dad says that her family's sketchy."

"I'm not allowed to talk to them!"

I keep my eyes firmly on the ground and pull my hood up, trying to pretend like I can't hear.

Everyone's been saying the same things about me since I started going to school. Dad told me not to make friends while I was there, and not to talk to any of the students, so I didn't and everyone thought there was something wrong with me.

Now, it's the same. Except this time it's the neighbors, who recognize that I only leave the house late at night or maybe twice a month to go to the store. They make it so, so much scarier to go out.

I prepare dinner for the couple who is coming over for dinner with dad. Apparently, it's a woman he works with her husband. As I'm putting the chicken in the oven, I hear the door open and close and dad approaches the kitchen.

"You followed the recipe I forwarded to you, correct?" He asks gruffly.

"Yes, sir." He pats my back and says, "I'll be in my study. Be sure that that dish is finished by six." I nod, manually entering the timer in the oven.  
I set the dining room table, only setting four of the eight places. I really miss the days when dad would bring work friends home, and the entire family would eat dinner together. Even if it was just for appearances sake, so dad would look like a family man. Everyone would pretend we got along, pretend like things weren't so bad, and for an entire evening, I got to be treated the same as everyone else.

Mr. and Mrs. Smith arrive shortly after dad, and they sit in the living room for a while, discussing work while Mr. Smith appears to feel left out, as he plays on his phone until his wife scolds him.

"We are here to be sociable," She says. "Put your phone away."

Dad shoots me a look and I nod. "Dinner's ready," I say, getting to my feet.

"Wonderful," Mr. Smith says, helping his wife to her feet. "What are we eating?" He asks.

"Chicken and biscuits." I say. "Homemade."

Mrs. Smith smiles brightly. "That sounds delicious! Thank you, Adaline!" She nudges her husband. "Yes, thank you, Miss Wilks."

I serve everyone their food and take a seat next to dad. For a few minutes the table is silent before Mrs. Smith decides to make conversation.

"So, Ada, your father tells me you have four older brothers. They must make it impossible or you to ever find a date."

I laugh politely and wipe my mouth with my napkin before replying with, "Yeah, I never stood a chance. I was hard enough to get past dad, let alone four big brothers." Mrs. Smith laughs.

"Don't worry, once you move out you can have a secret boyfriend or girlfriend. At your wedding you can pull them aside and tell them who you're marrying. It worked with me at least."

"Well I don't think it's a good idea," Dad speaks up for the first time. Mrs. Smith laughs.

"That's the trouble with daughters, they're very sneaky. You should've kept to sons." She says.

"You're probably right." Dad sighs.

I look down at my plate for a minute, avoiding dad's gaze. I wish I could just disappear. For a few minutes, forever, it doesn't matter. I wish things were different, and dad could forgive me. I wish anything that would make things easier.

"Did you hear about the aliens who're going to visit earth?" Dad asks.

"Hasn't everyone? It's been ten years since the last time anything's come close to earth." Mrs. Smith says.

"That we know of…" Mr. Smith says.

"Don't you start on your conspiracy theories, Mark." Mrs. Smith warns.

"All the signs are there, mysterious man that always shows up with something fishy. Not to mention we have no idea what the government is doing without our knowledge."

I raise my eyebrows, looking up from my plate. "Mysterious man?" I ask.

"Same guy, never ages, all throughout the years, only when things get desperate." He says, pulling out his phone. "You might've seen him."

"Please stop…" Mrs. Smith groans.

He ignores me and unlocks his phone, pulling up a picture. "Never got his name, only what I assume is a code name, which is stupid. Not worth mentioning." He shows me a picture that is taken from a stalker angle, and I raise my eyebrows.

It's a man wearing a blue suit, tan trench coat, red sneakers and tousled brown hair.

"Never seen him," I say.

As the next week goes by, nothing much happens. A few new bruises, a few phone calls from Jesse, and a few more scars. Altogether not too much. By Thursday, Dad has gone away on business for a couple of days and I have the house to myself.

I lay awake for most of the night on the couch, the sound of the TV droning on in the distance barely registering in my mind. I stare at the ceiling with a thousand thoughts running through my head, mostly thinking about how I'm ever going to escape this. What life I ever have a chance of with my father seeming to keep me tied down constantly.

If I run away now, he won't notice for at least three days. By then I could have already caught a plane to America and taken out a loan, gotten a motel room, changed my name and started searching for a job.

The only problem is I'm too scared to. I'm too scared to run away from everything I've ever known and start a new life with no one and nothing I know. I've never been alone before and even here is better than nothing.

By half past two in the morning I decide to go for a walk. I need air, a change of scenery, anything to take my mind off of the ache in my chest, and the hopelessness that I feel. I pull on one of my brother's old coat and step outside into the freezing December air.

The streetlights emit a dull orange glow that reflects on the snow. My cheeks grow steadily colder with every street I walk down, and my nose starts to run. It starts snowing and I turn into an alley in an attempt to get out of the wind and I pull out my phone, checking the weather forecast. Steady snow for the rest of the night. I immediately regret not checking the forecast before I left the house. I groan and rest the back of my head against the alley wall, closing my eyes for a moment.

I open my eyes abruptly at the sound of heavy footsteps lightly padding across the snow. I turn to see a man, at least six feet tall, staring down at me. My eyes widen in shock and I fumble to grab my phone, but drop it. Before I can duck to pick it up, he shoves me violently against the wall, something I'm sure will leave massive bruises on my back.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you," I feel his gaze on me, and I feel exposed. A chill runs down my spine that I don't entirely attribute to the cold.

"Please let me go," I whisper.

Before I have a chance to call for help, or do anything really to protect myself, I'm slammed against the alley wall and his hand in over my throat. I can breathe while he does this, which confuses me momentarily before my vision starts to go, black spots covering most of what is in front of me. Everything feels numb, and when I attempt to flex my fingers, I'm not sure whether or not it works.

"Don't worry, sweetheart. You won't remember a thing." He soothes, running his fingers down my cheek.

I hear distantly someone shouting, and he let's go of me, letting me collapse onto the freezing cold ground. But I'm only aware of this for a few seconds before I finally lose consciousness.

I wake with my head aching and my throat throbbing. I sit up quickly and feel nauseous. The sound of the TV playing in the background is the only sound I can clearly make out. I can't remember how I got here, and or a moment I think it's just another beating from Dad, but I remember that he's away on business.

"Ah, Ada, good. You're awake." I freeze in my seat, recognizing the voice immediately. All at once the memory of what happened comes back all at once, the attack and my memories of the Doctor, and I lean over and empty the contents of my stomach into the trashcan.

I feel a hand rubbing my back and after a minute he hands me a glass of water, which I take gratefully.

"Here," He says, handing be three pills. "The orange ones are for your head, and the white one is for your stomach." He says.

I nod and down the rest of my water, which burns my throat.

"Good girl." He praises with a smile.

I close my eyes for a few seconds, trying to figure out if this is a dream. It's been two years, I could only assume that he was dead, or hated me, or anything. After a while, I never considered the fact that he could come back.

"Are you real?" I blurt out, turning to him abruptly and making eye contact with him for the first time in years.

He looks exactly the same as he did two years ago, and all throughout my childhood, never aging a day. As he always does, he looks extremely concerned. It looks like him. He looks like my Doctor.

"You're awake, Adaline. Someone attacked you, I took care of it, though. Don't worry," He smiles reassuringly at me and pats my arm.

"What happened to you?" I blurt out. "Where did you go?"

He frowns for a moment then says, "How old are you?"

"Nineteen."

"How old were you when you last saw me?"

"Seventeen…"

He groans. "I've got to stop doing this."

I raise my eyebrows, "This an easy mistake for you to make, then?" I ask.

"Fairly easy…" He trails off, biting his lip nervously and staring at the carpet.

"Ada," He says after a moment. "I'm so sorry. This was an honest mistake, I swear."

An honest mistake. How do you forget about someone for two years?

"How?" I ask, deciding it's better to press for answers instead of letting this go.

"I have a time machine. She's faulty, takes me to random times at her own pace. The last time I saw you was three days ago, I promise, Adaline."

He looks sorry, everything about him seems like he completely and totally means everything he just said, and it's now that I realize that he is either completely insane, or telling the truth. Instead of answering, I nod my head numbly.

The conversation lags and I turn my attention to the television.

 _"_ _Rumors continue to spread on what is going on in the town of Dana, America. The town has been on lock down for forty eight hours, and social media continues to blow up with speculations from locals and other alike. The locals report that they have not been permitted to leave their homes for the whole of two days. It is reported that during the lockdown, two children, and one adult are missing. The official cause of this complete shut off from the world is still unknown, thought the speculations are getting more and more preposterous."_

Images of the missing people appear on the screen. A little girl with dark brown hair and brown eyes. She can't be older than eleven. She grinning widely at the camera, clasping her hands together in front of her. Catherin Reynolds. A little boy with red hair, blue eyes, and a face that is covered in freckles is smiling halfheartedly at the camera. Obviously this was from an awkward family photo session, the kind that never looks natural. Ryan Smith. Finally, there's a picture of a man with dark brown skin, smiling at the camera from where he is playing the violin. Daren Moore.

I yawn, stretching out my aching legs. "Man, I think the world is coming to an end." I say.

"What year is it?" The Doctor asks urgently.

"Calendars, Doctor, we've talked about this."

"Adaline," He warns.

"Twenty one eighty two. You know, I could get you a calendar, watch, _something_ that could help with this-" I stop talking as he pulls me to my feet, turning up the TV.

"Doctor!" I bite my lip as my wrists throb, the bruises on them right underneath where he grabbed me.

He ignores me while he intently watches the TV,

I groan. "Who watches the _news?"_

"I remember this! I heard about this a while ago, I wondered when I'd get involved in it." He says.

"Remember what?" I ask.

"This. It's Aliens again, this is when-" He stops himself, looking ridiculously excited.

"It's when what?" I ask, humoring him.

"Let's go and find out."

"How do you even think you know? Doctor, no one's known. For days."

"I'm a time traveler, word gets around. Eventually. Let's go to America. Find out the exciting way."

I laugh quietly for a moment before I look into his eyes. They're serious.

"Doctor, how're we getting to America?" I ask.

"We'll take my spaceship."

"Oh! The time machine spaceship?!" I ask excitedly.

"Yes!" He exclaims.

"No!" I laugh.

"Why not?" He asks.

"Because I'm not seven anymore!" I say, chuckling. "Time travel isn't real!"

"Yes, it is." He says stubbornly, crossing his arms. "Where did you think I'm from?" He asks.

"I sorta imagined some van somewhere, though I imagine you think you come from the future."

"Technically the past. I'm a Time Lord."

"Is that a cult?" I ask, grinning at him.

"No! It's a race! I'm from Gallifrey!"

"You're hilarious." I laugh.

"I'm serious!"

"Well, that too." He's quiet for a minute

"How do I know you're not just some nutter?"

"I am."

"Yes, then, I will run away with you. Obviously."

He snorts. "Listen, Ada. I swear on my life, I have no intention of hurting you, or doing anything but take you to America to have an adventure."

He isn't lying. I can tell when people are lying. The thing is- and this is a very important thing- that doesn't make him safe. I've known him my whole life, and I want to trust him, but a small part of me is still telling me that he's a murderer who will dispose of my body and I will never be seen again.

The other thing is, though, that isn't much worse that my current predicament.

I take a deep breath. "And then straight home."

"Only if that's what you want."

I nod slowly, rolling this information around in my head.

"Okay."

He grins at me, "I was hoping you'd say that."

If this is how I die- so be it. I'd rather go out with some hope left than with nothing at all.

 **So- who else saw the new episode of Sherlock? My non-spoiler response to it would basically be "You're not expecting it. No really, you're not."**

 **Please review? Honestly, they make it so much more fun to write. Knowing that someone out there actually likes this story- it's amazing. It doesn't even have to be that long- just a few words. I'll take anything. Thank you so much!**


	3. The Crash

**It's going to be midnight in about four minutes and thirty seconds so I'm going to make this A/N as quick as possible.**

 **I've updated the trigger warnings in the first chapter so review those please.**

 **Tomorrow Donald Trump will be my president. I'm scared as Hell for myself and a lot of other people. If you're out there, and you're worried about what's going to happen in the next four years, stay strong.**

 **Please pray for us.**

 **I don't own Doctor who. I guess I own Ada but idk, she's an adult so she can do what she likes.**

I'm pulling my hair into a ponytail as I run back down the stairs, pulling my duffel bag behind me.

"Is it cold in America?" I ask, running my hand over my head to check the pony tail.

"Not very. You'll be fine in what you're wearing." He says, glancing around the room, apparently curious.

"Should we inform your father of this?" he asks.

"Definitely not."

"I think he'd like to kn-"

"Is your time machine from Gallifrey going to have enough room for me to bring our popcorn machine? Nothing says time travel like popcorn, yeah?" I ask.

"Um… Don't worry about it. I have a popcorn machine… somewhere. It's vintage, from nineteen eighty. Don't worry, it's basically new." I blink a few times before sighing.

"Right, okay."

He chuckles

I make sure the door is locked before we leave. Dad doesn't check the security cameras almost ever. So unless he is for some reason suspicious of me, he won't have any idea I've left until at least next week.

"Is it parked far from here?" I ask, turning to face him.

"Not very far. About two or three blocks from here." He says. There's silence for a couple minutes as we walk.

"Do you have to buy a permit to own a time machine? Or is it one of those things that the government would try and steal so you have to constantly move around so they never find you?" I ask.

He chuckles. "More the second one." He says. I laugh.

"Am I breaking the law by going with you?" I ask.

"Well…" Giggling, I stop abruptly as he stops.

"What's this?" I ask, noticing that he's practically beaming at a tall blue box.

"This is the T.A.R.D.I.S." He grins. I stare at it for a few seconds.

"Is it behind that box?" I ask slowly.

"Nope." I glance around,

"You're joking, right?" I ask nervously,

"Not at all."

All at once, it occurs to me all the stupid decisions I've made just now. One, trusting this man in the first place. Second, buying into the whole alien thing. Seriously? An alien that looks like a human? How stupid am I?

"I wanna go home." I blurt out, staring at the box. He frowns, turning to face me.

"Why?" He asks.

"This is… This is a prank, right? Riley's behind this. Or Jess. No, definitely Riley." I try to sound confident in what I'm saying, perhaps trying to convince myself as well.

But it doesn't add up. Riley's been planning this since I was seven? Even he isn't that good. Or patient, for that matter.

"Just step inside the box," he says.

"This was dumb. I'm a moron. A stupid reckless impulsive moron." I bite my fingernails, staring at the box.

"You're not a moron." He says simply. "You're very smart. Maybe reckless, but so am I."

"Comforting." I murmur.

"Are you going to let me leave?" I ask.

"Of course. But please, trust me. Just step inside for one minute." I glance at him.

 _Stupid, reckless, impulsive._

"Okay." I say.

I pull open the door nervously. What I'm expecting, I don't know. I close my eyes as it opens and frown when I finally look inside. I step into a large metallic room, and I appear to be standing on some sort of walkway. I take a step down the stairs numbly, looking around. The only light is a dull, orange glow and some blue light coming from all around. In the center is an odd table which I can only assume is the control panel. Not that any of these details in and of themselves mean much, it's that I'm standing in what should be a four by four box, not a room.

"Doctor… this is-"

"The T.A.R.D.I.S. That's time and relative dimension in space. She can go practical anywhere, any time." He says.

"But it's-" I run back to the door, sticking my head outside. This is impossible. It's still a box on the outside. I hit it. Wood. How is a time machine made out of wood?

"It's bigger on the inside!" I exclaim, running back inside.

He laughs. "Yep." I open my mouth to say something, then seem to forget it.

"How?" I blurt out after a few seconds.

"Time Lord Technology. They're the only race in creation to ever use it." I blink a few times.

"O-okay."

He grins at me.

I look around, taking in every detail. Nothing changes as I look around, and slowly, I begin to accept the fact that this is real, not a dream.

I exhale slowly, looking towards the Doctor.

He smiled at me and says, "Would you still like to go to America?" He asks. It only takes me a moment before I nod.

He clasps his hands together and grins,

"Right, then. We're off!"

"Okay," I say weakly.

The machine starts making an odd sound while The Doctor is messing with the controls and buttons on the control panel.

"Ada, pull that lever for me," he says, gesturing in the general direction of the other side.

"What lever?" My voice is probably ridiculously panicked, but I can't hear myself over the engine of this thing.

He takes my hand gently and puts it on top of the red lever, pulling it down slowly.

"When I say now, push the blue button," He orders, pointing to the other side of the machine. I nod, and when he gives the cue, the entire machine shudders.

"What the Hell!" I exclaim, taking my hand off the button in panic.

"It's supposed to do that!" The Doctor shouts over the rumble of the machine. The machine swerves to the side and I swallow hard. This is not what appears to be controlled chaos. This is just chaos. This is obviously some sort of faulty machine that could crash at any moment killing the both of us. This is completely stupid.

"Doctor?" I ask, looking around. He holds up a finger, signaling for me to wait a moment, and I bite my lip.

"I'm going to die…" I whisper. Insanity. Complete insanity.

The machine slows down and I start to hear how loudly my heart is thumping. I stuff my hands into my pockets to hide the shaking.

"Are- are we done?" I ask.

"Yup!" The Doctor says cheerfully, turning to the door.

"And we're not in London anymore?"

"Nope,"

He walks towards the door confidently, and I follow him after a moment of standing still.

When we get outside, it's colder than it was in London. There's snow all over the ground, which has been trampled by all the people who have walked by. We're in the back alley-way of some town in the U.S. "Is this really America?" I ask, my breath fogging in front of me.

He nods, gesturing around. "Dana, North Dakota, America, twenty one eight one."

I frown. "Doctor, it's eighty two,"

"What?"

"We're in the wrong year."

"Huh." Is all he offers.

I wait for a few moments to see if he's going to do anything, like go back into that box. Instead, he starts walking towards the street. I quickly follow after him, ignoring the snow as it gets into my shoes.

"Doctor?" I ask.

He turns to look at me without stopping, "Yes?" He asks.

"Aren't we- aren't we going to go to the right year?"

He shrugs nonchalantly. "I don't think so. We might as well see what's going on right now. See, Ada, this whole debacle started somewhere. And if the T.A.R.D.I.S. took us here it's probably for good reason."

Reckless. I'm seeing it now.

The town looks very old fashioned. The road is paved with red brick, the lampposts black metal, standing tall above the sidewalks, and the stores are all locally owned. It's a country town.

"Doctor?" I ask.

"Yeah?"

"Was it a space ship?"

"What do you mean?" He asks.

"Before the lockdown, people from this town were posting videos, of the sky. It looked like a space ship, but a lot of people, really important people shot that idea down. Apparently their satellites are too advanced to not pick up on that."

He nods. "Humans, always too big to be fooled. Trust me, you can be. It's really easy. And funny to watch." He says. "To answer your question, yes, Ada. It was."

"Why is it that UFOs always crash in country towns?" I ask. I'm probably starting to annoy him now, but I really do want answers.

"It has to do with the fact that there's more open area in the country, and less people. Less witnesses should an alien ship land. It has to do with the fact that until about two thousand five the world hadn't made public contact with alien life. Ironically, that crash was in a city. London. " He says matter of factly.

"I bet you were there," I say conversationally, not looking at him, but at the scenery around us.

"Hmm?"

"When the Earth first made contact with aliens. You were there?"

"I was, actually."

The conversation lulls for a few moments, and I decide to break it.

"Was it scary?" I ask.

"They… They were humans about it. Some got drunk and prepared for the end, some prayed, and some got together and watched the news. No one really knew what to do."

I can't even imagine how scared I would be if a ship crashed in my city and I didn't know what to do. Now we have protocol. Even if it's only happened once in my lifetime, I wasn't that scared. Jesse held my hand, and I didn't cry. I thought about it, I thought about how we weren't allowed to leave the house, but it wasn't chaos.

"Here!" The Doctor exclaims.

I stop. I've been following him absentmindedly for a few minutes, and now I realize we're in the middle of the street.

I glance around, I try and figure out what I'm supposed to be looking for. It's an intersection between four roads, all of which are empty, except for a woman with dark brown hair walking into an antiques shop, and an older man unlocking the door on what appears to be the entrance to his apartment.

"This is, or will be, the crash site." He pulls out his sonic and scans the ground.

His face lights up as he reads the sonic. "There's traces of foreign materials. Metal."

"Like from Mars?" I ask dumbly.

"No, Ada, of course not." He rolls his eyes. "Martian materials look completely different."

There were parking spaces with cars in them behind the buildings where we landed, but there's nothing out here.

Maybe they don't drive much around here. There's not a long stretch to get to anywhere, and there's always Uber or a Cab.

"Okay, let's go." He says, turning on his heel and walking away.

I follow behind him, brow furrowed slightly. "That's it?" I ask.

"Yup, they didn't leave anything else to go on. Let's go."

"Shouldn't we try and figure out why there's already material here?"

"Oh, definitely."

The T.A.R.D.I.S. doesn't seem to have moved since we left it, or drawn any attention, which is surprising. If I happened to find a blue box appearing out of nowhere, as someone was bound to see, I'd like to think I'd react.

The Doctor snaps his fingers and the doors swing open.

"How does that work?" I ask before I have time to consider if I should

"How does what work?" He asks.

"You snapping your fingers. How does that open the doors? Would it work if anyone snapped their fingers? How is that very effective?"

I'm stumbling over my words, probably looking very stupid to him, and my cheeks flush what's probably a bright pink.

His gaze is soft, and his tone is calm, soothing, even, as he says.

"Well, the T.A.R.D.I.S. isn't exactly just a machine. She's alive. She knows everything, everything that could ever come to be. The Time Lords thought that she was faulty. She just doesn't listen, doesn't take me where I want to go, but where I need to. She also recognized me specifically, and people that she trusts. She knows who she can trust because, as I said, she can see all that ever can and ever will be."

"Is that- is that why we didn't go to the correct year? Why we tried to find something?"

"Yes, we're probably here for a reason."

"But we didn't find anything."

"Rule 234, just hold on tight, and pretend like it's all part of the plan." He says with a grin.

I want to ask him what he means by rules, I want to tell him that I don't understand his answer, and I want to know more about the T.A.R.D.I.S.

But I've already pushed my bounds. He's probably really annoyed by me, and would prefer if I shut up.

I don't speak again until we've arrived wherever. He's probably trying to go to the date of the crash, but he didn't say specifically.

"Are you alright?" He asks me. I glance up at him and I quickly return it to the floor.

"I told you, I'm fine." _Liar._

He stares at me for a moment, seeming to see right into every fiber of my being.

"See, you say that," He says slowly, "But everyone says that."

"The crash. Remember?" I say, turning to walk out the door, fully intent on not looking back. He grabs my wrist and I flinch, regretting it almost immediately.

For a second, I wonder if I can convince him that it was nothing. He's not stupid, though. He pulls up my sleeve, revealing my wrist, showing all the bruises, cigarette burns, and cuts. My stomach plummets and I feel sick.

"Ada," He says softly, pulling me from my thoughts. I pull my wrists away, crossing my arms across my chest. I try to look confident as I say,

"The crash, Doctor." My voice cracks on the last syllable. So much for being confident. This time, as I walk away, I really don't look back, ignoring the absolute pain and upset in his eyes. Like he's hurting along with me.

As soon as I step outside, I smell smoke. We're on the hill on the outer area of the town, with a perfect view of the town square.

Only, it isn't like the town square I saw not five minutes ago. It has a crater a few meters south of the center intersection. It's still smoldering, but the ship that was supposed to have crashed is gone.

The Doctor is right next to me, and he clears his throat before saying,

"It's Earth, about ten hours after you left."

The sun is just starting to rise. I realize it would be around eleven or twelve in London. My house is probably untouched, no one will have noticed I'm gone.

My phone starts ringing after about thirty seconds of silence, and I pick it up, already knowing who it is.

"Hey, Jess."

 _"_ _Hey Lady Bug."_ I crinkle my nose, smiling.

I hear Ariana speak in the background, something I can't make out.

 _"_ _Ari says hi, and that she loves you."_

"Tell her I love her too."

There's a beat where he repeats my words, then he's back.

 _"_ _Anyways, what're you doing?"_

"Time travel."

He snorts, and I can practically hear the exasperation in the gesture.

 _"_ _Then how are you talking to me if you're in the future?"_

"I only went slightly into the future. Now I'm like ten hours in the future than when I left. Did I miss anything important?" My tone is unnecessarily concerned, playing with him.

 _"_ _Have you heard about all that stuff going on in North Dakota?"_

My eyes flicker to the crater ahead of me.

"Umm, it might've made a few headlines." I can't tell if I'm being sarcastic or lying. I guess one isn't really different from the other.

 _"_ _Hmm, you're hilarious."_

I smile. "What are you up to?"

 _"_ _Ari's pregnant."_ His tone is nonchalant, and it takes a few seconds for this revelation to catch up to me.

I freeze for a moment, blinking rapidly as I attempt to process this.

"R-really!?" I exclaim, nervousness and excitement mingling together.

"Yup. We found out last night, you're the first one to know."

I don't know what to say here. Congratulations? Something excited? Telling him what he should name it? I'm not sure how to feel here, either.

The Doctor frowns next to me, and starts walking down the hill. He gestures for me to follow wordlessly.

"I- I have to go. I'll call you soon- love you!" I hang up before he can reply and run after The Doctor, slowing to a walk that matches his pace when I get close enough.

"Your brother?" He asks, still looking ahead.

"Yeah, I guess my phone connected to the satellites again. I don't think it'll do that again, if we went to a time where I was already there. It could malfunction."

"I can fix that," he says, holding out his hand for my phone. He's oddly sullen, and I know why, but that doesn't put me any more at ease.

I hand it to him and he uses his sonic to scan it.

"There. Now it'll work anywhere, aside from certain places, like alternative universes and black holes, but I don't foresee us ever going to one of those. The really killer part is the bill."

He smiles at me, which is obviously an extreme effort on him, so I return it. Funny, as convincing as he is, I can still see it's fake. I guess he can tell with me too.

The site is being inspected by people in hazmat suits, sorting through the rubble and disposing of some of the bits from the plane in weird bags. On the other side of the taped off bits is a group of people, all wearing suits and sunglasses, talking.

"I get the feeling that we don't want to be seen here," I say.

"I think you're right."

He directs me towards the two vans that the hazmat crew apparently drove in in, and from in between them.

"What are they doing?" I ask, whispering.

"Cleaning up the crash site. They want this whole thing to be swept under the rug." He replies, a tone of anger in his voice.

"Why, though? What about this makes people think that it needs to be covered up?"

"Dunno." He says, and I can't tell if he's lying or not.

"Maybe there's a—" I'm cut off by his hand flying over my mouth, and I raise my eyebrows in alarms as I hear heavy footsteps coming this way. I do the first thing that comes to mind, drop to the ground and pull the Doctor down with me. I roll under the car, and the Doctor follows. The boots walk around the car, slowly, which has my nerves on edge enough. He's going to check the underneath. He heard us.

As quietly and quickly as I can, I worm my way out and get to my feet, making sure my feet are behind the tire. The Doctor is one step behind me. After a few seconds, I realize there's no way we can stay here. I turn around, facing what's in front of us and try and figure out where we can hide.

It's a row of stores. None open. Not that I expected them to be. I'm still disappointed.

"Do you know how to pick a lock really fast?" My tone is just loud enough to reach him, but not suit guy on the other side of the van. He looks confused for a moment before he nods firmly, and we set off at a run.

We run into the Antiques shop without being spotted. He pulls out his sonic, scans it, and the lock clicks. I grin as we walk in, closing the door behind us and leaning against

The room is filled with all sorts of things. There's a bright green piano that looks to be seventy years old, and at least ten wildly painted, oddly shaped chairs with no matches are all around here.

"If we're going to hide out in here, we should perhaps hide in the back." The Doctor offers.

I nod in agreement, and attempt to navigate my way over and around all of the various things that appear to be just junk in front of us. My foot catches on the rug and I instinctively reach out to catch myself, but end up whacking my elbow against the floor, and my forehead on the edge of a chair. There's a rather alarming crack as my elbow makes contact with the floor.

"Damn it!" I curse, pulling my elbow to my chest.

The Doctor is already kneeling beside me, looking concerned.

"Are you okay?" He asks.

"Yeah, yeah," I mutter, gingerly trying to feel how bad my forehead is.

"Let me see your elbow." He says, and I realize there's no point in arguing.

He flinches fractionally at the site of my arm, but seems to move past that fairly quickly, prodding at my elbow, asking me if it hurts, to wiggle my fingers, and if I can bend my elbow.

"Well, I don't think it's broken. And you're probably not concussed."

"If it's not broken, that what was that crack?" I ask.

He's quiet for a minute, then he motions for me to get to my feet. I do, and as soon as I'm out of the way, he rolls the rug up. Underneath, there's a handle on the wood. It appears to be a door. A board of wood is cracked, but instead of seeing nothing but perhaps cement underneath, there's light peeking through it.

The Doctor and I share a glance and I nod, reaching down to pull it open.

Beneath it is a spiral staircase that is a grey metal, and the walls are all bright white. The Doctor doesn't hesitate before he walks down it, calling softly for me to follow him.

The stairs are silent, so I pad down them softly. I'm very adept at sneaking around, and apparently the Doctor is too, though that doesn't surprise me.

"Where are we going?" I whisper.

"Don't know. I figured we'd just sort of go from here."

The wall, ceiling, and floor of this place is white, and every surface is grey. And I can hear the low drone of conversation in the next room. I gesture for the Doctor to follow me, and we both hide behind a shelf that is ajar from where it should be. The Doctor is between me and the crack that leads back outside. The entire outside seems to be ajar, like there's been no time to clean up lately.

Three people walk by, one wearing a lab coat, and two wearing fine suits. One of them I recognize as the man who we saw come in earlier. They walk up the stairs, and I hold my breath. As soon as they get to the top, I remember that we didn't shut the door.

"Did you shut this?" The older man asks. I can't see them, but I can hear the accusation in his voice. I swallow, glancing at the Doctor.

"I did! I swear!" The younger one says.

The woman in a lab coat tsks, probably shaking her head. "Damn it, James," she sighs. "We talked about this."

I let out a silent breath, relief flooding over me. We still wait about a minute before we leave our hiding place.

"Is anyone else here?" I whisper.

"Doubt it." He says, scanning the door again.

I inspect the clipboard on the table. It seems to have someone's complete information, including name, date of birth, social security numbers etc.

"Odd," I murmur as the Doctor exclaims "Brilliant!"

I turn to him and he grins at me.

"It's sound proof! This entire basement is sound proof!"

"How? I thought the ceiling was wood."

"It is. There appears to be a thin sheet of… Something that is keeping the sound out! This level of technology is not something the humans could come up with on their own, at least, not in this millennia. Do you know what that means?" He asks.

I widen my eyes. "That this entire town consists mainly of aliens! I knew there was something fishy about America!"

He rolls his eyes. "Be serious, Ada. Think about what I just told you. What could this possibly mean, other than what I just told you?"

I wrack my brains, trying to figure it out. "That… Americans really have been reverse engineering spaceships since the nineteen sixties and we just found area fifty one?"

It's probably a lame answer, I know. But I'm not exactly sure what to say here. I have no idea what's going on. I don't really know what to think in terms of aliens.

To my surprise, he appears to toss the idea around in his head a bit. "Maybe," He says.

"What's in here?" He enters the next room, which is considerably larger than the one we were just in. I frown at the sight in front of us.

There are four tables, all appearing to have a body on them, underneath a bright white sheet. Next to them, are the same clipboards as I saw out in the front room. Except, on this one is a name I recognize.

"Doctor?" I call.

"Hmm?" He asks, looking up from what appear to be parts of an alien ship. Where he got them, I have no idea.

"Come look at this." I say.

He comes over, picks up the clip board and frowns. "Where do I know that name?" He asks.

I pull back the sheet, revealing the face of the body.

"Catherine Reynolds. The girl from the news this morning."

 **This chapter is un-beta read so all mistakes are my own.**

 **Reviews are the only reward I get for working on this story, so please just take a few seconds to make my day.**


	4. Certainty

**Don't ever be a stage manager. They'll tell you that it's fun and then you accept. Before you know it you're herding cats- I mean theater kids- I mean cats.**

 **I'm going to be taking an editing class tomorrow, where I'll edit this chapter. So for the most excellent quality wait until about ten or eleven o'clock eastern standard time.**

 **I'm thinking of renaming this fic "Broken". Thoughts?**

 ***Disclaimer* Still- still don't own Doctor who. I'm teenager-aged, I wasn't even born when this show started. My** ** _dad_** **wasn't even born!**

 **Bear in mind the triggers this chapter**

I can hear a pair of feet coming down the stairs and turn to The Doctor, my eyes widened. For a long moment he stares at me, and then looks around the room for a way out. I've obviously done this more than him so I take charge, grabbing his wrist and shoving him under the kitchen table in the corner of the room. I'm fairly certain we can't be seen through the table cloth, but I push myself against the wall anyways.

The space is too small for both of us to fit comfortably. The Doctor is breathing right down my neck, and I'm losing circulation to my feet, but all I focus on is the sound of footsteps getting steadily closer.

I hold my breath while she turns on the coffee pot. She pulls out a chair and sits, her feet tapping anxiously on the floor. I pull myself back further, so we're only inches away from touching. I clench and unclench my fist, nervousness building up in my chest steadily. Any second now she's going to move just a tiny bit closer and we'll be exposed. Any slight movement, a sneeze, a cough, anything, and we're exposed. What happens after that I can't even imagine, probably-

I'm drawn out of my thoughts by the Doctor taking my hand, squeezing it between both of his. I exhale slowly, closing my eyes. If I just focus on this, this small piece of interaction, I'll be okay. I squeeze back,

I nudge the Doctor with my elbow and crawl out from underneath, and manage to make the ten feet between us and the doorway next to the staircase without being seen. I turn around and gesture for the Doctor to follow. He's less stealthy, making so much noise I'm certain he will get us caught. The woman doesn't turn around, and I'm grateful that the staircase is out of her line of sight, because now all we have to do is walk up them completely silently, and once the door is open, I jump out, closing the door and covering it with the rug immediately.

I take a deep breath. We're not in the clear yet, this place is still closed, and we're still not supposed to be in here. The Doctor is already walking towards the door when this thought crosses mind. We're cut off by the man that we first saw walk in here. He's crossing his arm and glaring at us.

"How did you get in here?" He demands harshly.

Lie. I need to lie. And it needs to be believable. I wrack my brains, trying to come up with something quickly. I'm good at lying, but I know full well the consequences if I screw it up. Actually, this guy could probably do much worse than my dad, if his appearance is anything to go on.

"The door was unlocked. We're looking for a set of twelve dining room chairs, do you deliver? I live just down the road and-"

"This store is closed." He says firmly, his voice full of aggression.

"Yes, well, as I said, the door was unlocked."

"I can assure you it was not!" He says. "Well, I can assure you that it was." I say, raising my eyebrows at him.

He turns around, apparently going to check, and the Doctor pulls out his sonic, unlocking the door. The man opens it, and turns the doorknob. I smirk at him, raising my eyebrows. His face is flushed and his ears go red.

"Leave." He practically growls.

"You read my mind," I say, taking the Doctor's hand and walking out the door.

We're about a hundred meters away from the antiques shop when I finally let out a breath.

"That was… Something." I say breathlessly.

"You're a very good liar." He says, smiling approvingly at me.

I laugh. "Yeah, years of experience and four really good role models…" I smile. "When I was six, Jacob and Riley gave me "lessons". Apparently, my tells are biting the inside of my cheek and pulling on my ear."

He laughs. "Did you catch on?"

"Not until I was about eight or nine." I say, letting go of his hand as we approach the T.A.R.D.I.S. "Apparently, six year olds aren't that great at lying convincingly."

"Hey, next time we decide to go into some place we're not supposed to, because someone does something suspicious, promise me that we'll have something along the lines of a plan."

"Plans aren't really my thing." He seems genuinely serious, and I don't know whether to laugh at that, or demand to be brought home because of that. I laugh.

"We could be one of the bodies on that table, you know. We could've died. That was reckless." I say.

"Sort of like getting into a bigger-on-the-inside phone box time machine with a mad man."

I nod. "That too. God, I'm having a day."

I blow air out of my cheeks, shaking my head.

"You're handling it wonderfully, though." The Doctor offers.

"So, what do you think of what we saw?" I ask, getting more serious.

"What do you think we saw?"

"Uh, well… it's very, area fifty one-ish." Lame. What else? I need something more. I know more.

"This is a really big secret, for some reason, so it's…" It's all over social media. Everyone knows about it but no one's knows what it is. Literally everyone know about aliens, so there's absolutely no reason to cover it up.

"It's a cover up," I say. "They're covering something up."

He beams proudly at me, "Very good, Ada!"

"Why are they covering it up, then?" I ask. "It's a spaceship crash, not the end of the world."

I think about every time I've tried to cover something up. Why I did it. Usually when I knew I'd be in trouble, because I knew Dad would hate me for it. I did it because I knew I was in the wrong.

"It's something they did."

He grins at me, "Yes, Ada!"

I can't help but grin back at that. His smile is contagious and I feel really proud of impressing him.

The smile is wiped from my face, however, when there's a knock at the T.A.R.D.I.S. door.

"Expecting anyone?" The Doctor questions. I shake my head, staring curiously at the door. I don't think I should be worried. The Doctor is simply staring at it like it's no big deal, so it probably isn't.

He opens the door, popping his head through. I peer behind him, trying to get a view of what's going on. There are two soldiers, both armed, standing in the doorway. In front of them is probably their commander.

"Afternoon. Can I help you?" The Doctor asks cheerfully.

"Step outside. Both of you." The man says, his tone harsh and his face indifferent.

The Doctor turns to me, raising his eyebrows at me as if asking me what I think. I guess my face shows that I'm really scared because he smiles encouragingly at me, mouthing 'it'll be okay'.

I nod, and, following his lead, put my hands on my head, walking out the door.

There are guns on us as soon as we step out, and I swallow, trying to wipe all signs of fear from my face. The Doctor is completely nonchalant about the whole thing, he's casually looking around the landscape.

My hands are shaking, my heart is pounding, and I think I'm about to die.

"You do realize you're travelling in an illegal machine, in a restricted government area."

The Doctor and I share a glance.

"How do you know about the T.A.R.D.I.S.?" The Doctor asks defensively, like this man is talking about his first born.

"We're very aware of you, Doctor." The man smirks.

I glance at the Doctor, he's examining the man, frowning.

"Take them away, boys."

They took us to a small cell near where we had been investigating in handcuffs. They never said it outright, but I'm sure they intend on killing us.

Any hope we had of escaping was lost when they had the Doctor empty his pockets, taking away his sonic and everything else he had on him. They took my phone as well, locking it up in a gym locker on the other side of the room.

I stare at the wall now, chewing my lip. My wrists ache from the handcuffs, just enough for me not able to ignore it.

"I probably should've seen this coming." I say.

"How would you have predicted this?" The Doctor asks good-naturedly.

"Well, when you're running away with some stranger, you sort of have to accept that it will probably end with you locked up in a basement."

He laughs at that, not looking at me.

"Not my basement, though."

I shrug. "Basically the same in the end."

There's silence for a bit, which I wind up breaking.

"What's going to happen?" I ask.

"I don't know."

Again with the lying.

He does know what is going to happen. We're going to die, which isn't too hard to figure out. I'm not sure how I feel about this fact. It's one of those things that you always assume you'll be scared to death of. That will weigh on you like a ton of bricks. How I feel now, though, is numb to the entire situation.

"I'm sorry, Ada." He says quietly.

I turn to face him, and he has his eyes fixed on the ground, his face somber. A thousand emotions flash through my head, and I find myself wishing that there was some way to tell him that he didn't do anything wrong. That I don't regret any of this. When it comes down to it, a life where I never met him is just not worth it. I would've given up a long, long time ago if it weren't for him.

Instead, I shrug nonchalantly. "It's not your fault."

He nods, his eyes still fixed on the ground.

I fiddle with the chains, trying to find a comfortable place to rest.

"Do your wrists hurt?" He asks. I shrug again, not really committing to anything.

"Ada… Why didn't you tell me?" He asks. "I could've done something." His voice cracks on the last syllable and my heart breaks.

"I couldn't… I- I wanted to, sometimes. Really." I swallow, making a point of not looking at him, but at the ground in front of me.

"You were my only friend, you know." I offer awkwardly. "I didn't think you were real for a while. The T.A.R.D.I.S. was the main reason, thought I was dreaming or something." He chuckled at that, and I turn to see him smiling briefly.

"You also seemed really mental."

He laughs, "I do give off that sort of vibe, don't I?"

"It would help if you didn't stumble around asking what year it is."

"Fair enough," he snorts.

The tension in the air lessens after that, until the door opens and the scientist walks in. I watch her, trying to figure out why she would be here. Her hands shake as she fumbles with the keys and she unlocks the cell door.

"What's going on?" The Doctor asks, sitting up and more alert now.

She kneels down next to me, and mumbles loud enough for the Doctor to hear, "Please don't say anything, just follow my lead."

She pulls keys out of her pocket and unlocks my handcuffs, then moves on to the Doctor. I get to my feet slowly, watching as she fumbles to find the correct key. I catch The Doctor's eye and mouth "What do we do?"

He glances between me and the woman and nods slightly. I follow close behind him, the woman following behind us.

I feel as though I'm marching to my execution. I can't explain the feeling. I know she won't kill us, but there's something unnerving about every step I take down the hall.

She points to the office at the end of the hall, and opens the door. Inside, there's a desk with paper completely covering it. On top is a laptop which is still on, and I think what might have once been coffee spilt on the rug. She locks the door behind her and stares at us for a long moment.

"I'd assume you've already figured it out." She says breathlessly.

"Bit obvious," The Doctor shrugs.

"More than a bit." I add.

"Just…" She closes her eyes, taking a deep breath. "Tell me- tell me everything you know."

I glance at the Doctor, shaking my head slightly, cueing him to go.

He takes a deep breath, ready to launch into an explanation. "For the past three years, you've been secretly communicating with the alien race called the Plekah. It all started when you found their ship crashed, and you discovered them. Helped them recover, then sent them on their merry way, after you studied them. Figured out how to help them recover, developed a computer program that could figure that out for you. But it was faulty, not as efficient as it could be, so you needed to continue your research. They owe you, and they're perfectly happy to do whatever you need. Every couple of months they visit. Until—"

"Until it went wrong." The woman interrupted, her eyes downcast and filled with shame. "Three people are dead. Six of _them_ are dead. And for what? Science." She laughs tearfully, shaking her head.

Two tears stream down her face as she looks up. "I- I did this. It's my fault. This was all my idea- it all happened too fast. It escalated too quickly and everybody quit." She chokes, wiping the tears away. "And now it's all military run. Then _The Doctor_ show's up. The world's ending. I did this."

The Doctor is frowning, staring at her. "I followed all of that. Mostly all. All except one thing," He pauses, pointing at her. "How do you know who I am?"

She frowns, staring at him for a minute.

"You've saved so many people, cultures, worlds. So many people are in your debt. Did you really think that no one noticed?" She stares at him, looking hurt for a second before shrugging it off. She turns to her desk and grabs a bag, handing it to the Doctor.

"Oh, this is yours." She hands the Doctor a massive bag, which I recognize as the one ne emptied his pockets into.

"Excellent!" He starts trying to stuff everything back into his pockets, which will likely take a few minutes.

He throws a few things at me, which I manage to catch. "Could you-" I catch the sonic. "Could you stop!" He finishes ruffling through the bag and throws it on the floor.

"I was meaning to get rid of that anyways."

He looks at the woman, perking up. "What's your name?" He asks.

"Lynn." She replies, smiling. "Lynn Mathews."

"Good. Good name, keeps things simple for me."

She looks uncomfortable, staring at the floor. "What do I do, Doctor?"

"Don't keep it a secret." He says.

"It'll ruin this whole project."

"Do you want this project to continue?" I interrupt impatiently. "God, it's one thing to exploit an entire race of beings, but three people are dead." I bite my lip, looking away briefly before lowering my voice.

"Do you honestly think this program should continue?" She looks down, shaking her head.

"You're right." She mutters.

"I'll—" She stops. She stops, staring at the ground for a few moments. I share a look with the Doctor. I'm not sure what to do here, it's all new territory to me.

"I'll post it all on social media."

My head snaps in here direction and my eyes widen.

"I'll livestream it all. Explain it. This can only happen because no one knows it's happening."

This is certainly going to be something. I can already imagine the uproar this will bring from, well, everywhere. Over the past couple of days, the mystery of all of this has been broadcast on every news channel and social media site there is, it's very bad. This sort of thing will not be forgotten.

"Do you want me to be in it?" The Doctor asks.

Lynn shakes her head, typing something into her computer.

"This started with me, I'm going to end it." She says firmly.

"I don't expect I'll survive this," She says. "Stay out of the camera's view." She mumbles, gesturing to the Doctor and I.

"When they come, hide in the panic room. They don't know the password." She wipes a tear from her eye and composes herself, clicking a few buttons on the screen and beginning the stream.

"Hello, America. And the rest of the world." She smiles sadly, "I'm Lynn Abbott, and I'm here to tell you exactly the situation in the town of Dana." The Doctor bars the door with a bookshelf after checking that the door is locked. I silently help, lifting the bookshelf bit by big until it's pressed against the door. I tune out the explanation, not needing to hear it again.

After she gives an entire explanation, she pauses, thinking for a long moment.

"Ada," The Doctor whispers. "Come on."

She starts talking again, but I'm not listening. I'm more focused on how little time we appear to have left.

"Give her a minute," I murmur.

"…that's how- that's how it came to this. I'm so sorry,"

She reaches into her draw and before I can make out what's happening, she presses the gun against her head and pulls the trigger.

The Doctor grabs my wrist and pulls me to the metal door in the back of the room. I feel my shoulders start to shake and I sob without making a noise, tears beginning to make their way down my face. The Doctor pulls out his sonic and uses it to open the door. He stares at Lynn for a long moment before locking the door behind us.

The room is completely soundproof, though there is a screen that can connect to a camera outside and show us what's going on.

I slide down the wall, my face in my hands. I can't even begin to comprehend what has just happened. It can't have been real, it just can't!

"Ada," The Doctor mumbles, rubbing my back. I flinch at the motion, the bruises from earlier aching sharply. He withdraws his hand quickly, like I'm made of glass.

"Ada, look at me." He says softly. I shake my head, intend on staying exactly as I am- motionless, covering my eyes from the world.

"We- we have to go back for her! Use the T.A.R.D.I.S.!" My voice is strained, and I finally look at him. My eyes are probably bloodshot, and I know my bottom lip is quivering, making me look like a baby.

"Ada, we can't." He mumbles, looking ashamed.

"Why not!?" I shout with absolutely no authority. "It's what you do, fix people! Help them! If you don't do that then what's the bloody point of you!" I know my words are something I will regret soon, and that they hit close to home, but I can't bring myself to care.

"It's a fixed point in time." He mutters.

"What?" I spit.

"Her death is a fixed point in time, if I alter it, it could cause some serious paradoxes. There's nothing I can do."

The screen that shows us the outside clicks on as the bookshelf falls, and a couple of seconds later, three soldiers barge in, pointing their guns around the room.

The Doctor turns it off a second later.

I'm crying to hard I can't breathe. Every time it seems like I will, I only let a shallow amount in before I sob again. I feel dehydrated, and my head aches when I finally start to calm down. I realize that the Doctor is holding me, his arms wrapped around me and my head on his chest. I know I should be uncomfortable here, but I can't find the energy to do anything. Instead I let him hold me, and enjoy the feeling of comfort this gives me before drifting into sleep.

We left shortly after that. Authorities arrived and swarmed the place- they wanted everything over quickly. They asked a lot of questions- some I'm not sure I answered right. There really was no explanation as to how we could just let Lynn die. They let me go after I started crying again.

The T.A.R.D.I.S. was still where we left it, which I hadn't expected. Apparently it was protected by something. No army could get in there.

Now, I'm sitting in the doorway of the T.A.R.D.I.S., staring at the stars with my legs swinging outside. I rest my head on the side and listen to the Doctor's feet move around the console, doing something to them. I'm convinced that I can see the entire universe from here, every single star.

I pull out my phone and snap a picture, then throw it into my duffel bag.

There's too many things about the world I don't know. I didn't have any idea that aliens like the Doctor could walk around without anyone noticing, or that we were making contact with aliens in secret, or that time travel is real when I woke up this morning. Now, everything is different. Everything in the world has shifted. Maybe not in reality, but certainly from my perspective.

The Doctor sits down next to me, not saying a word for about a minute.

"I suppose- I suppose you want me to take you back there, then?" It's supposed to be an offhand comment, but it comes across as a question.

"I guess so." I mumble, glancing at him.

He nods slowly, looking sad.

"It's not always like this," he says. "I made a mistake, bringing you here."

Oh. I didn't know that he thought this was a mistake- a tragedy, sure. But it really seemed like he wanted this to happen. I thought he genuinely wanted me there, not that I was forcing myself on him.

"The idea, in theory, worked. I forgot how it ended. I would've taken you somewhere fun, happy. I'm so sorry, Ada."

I frown, "It wasn't all bad."

"It's like a mystery. The kind you'd see in movies, or books. Adventure. It was fun."

He furrows his brow at me, turning to face me.

"You really think so?"

I shrug, smiling. "Yeah,"

My phone dings and I ignore it.

"You don't have to go, you know." He offers.

I blink, turning to him. He's looking at me with a smile, and hope in his eyes.

Doing this. _This,_ full time. Solving mysteries like this, having adventures. Losing people, risking my life. I think back to earlier today. _Was that today?_ The hurt I felt. All alone, no siblings left at home, and nothing to live for. And I consider what this could mean for me. I could run away and never ever come back, or I could run and be back before Dad gets home. Every single option is available to me with absolutely no pressure.

"Just to clarify, it's always this dangerous?"

He nods.

I take a deep breath, and say with absolute certainty, "I'm in."

 **When I was six or seven, I was watching Snow White with my sisters and I had this abrupt realization. I didn't have to be discontent with the ending. I didn't have to wonder if they ever got married or had kids. I could make it all up! So I made them both listen to me ramble my ideas for what happened to them after, to what happened to the dwarves, and what if their troubles weren't quite over? Bear in mind I was very small, and all the ideas I had sucked, (But in a cute way, because I was basically a baby) but the idea that I've always loved the idea of FanFiction is mind blowing. And look how far I've come.**

 **I need reviews! I don't know what's wrong or right with this Fic without your opinions. You don't even have to say anything except that you're reading!**

 **Thank you for reading, I'll see you next Thursday!**


	5. Unrecognizable

**This is a bit of a short chapter, barely scraping three thousand words which is my absolute minimum for my works. (Yes, there's multiple works. Don't expect them to be published anytime soon lol.)**

 **Also, I want to thank you all so much! This story has officially reached thirteen favorites, seventeen alerts, and six reviews. (On FanFiction that is)**

 **My last fic only got thirteen favorites and sixteen follows in all of the time that it's been published, which was almost two years ago, so I'm super excited! Thank you all so, so much!**

 **I also want to let you know that I will be editing or completely rewriting this story. I'm just not as happy with it as I could be. Don't fret, I'll try not to let this interfere with my updating schedule. But, knowing me…**

 **This fic is owned by not me. Idk who owns it, but it's not me. Sorry to disappoint, y'all.**

 **Please review the trigger warnings from the prologue.**

When I was fourteen, Riley ran away. For all of two hours before he was found again. I remember sitting at my desk, staring blankly at my homework while I listened to Dad beat him. I sat there for nearly an hour.

I didn't know what was right that day. I had thought of running away as well, and I'm certain we all had. I wondered if it was truly wrong. What was so bad about wanting to feel safe at home? And why did Dad react so strongly to him leaving? The answer I eventually came to was that Dad loves us. That conclusion left me with more mixed feelings than I started with.

I know as soon as I open my eyes that I have done the same thing he did. More extreme, but the same.

I sit up, my back hunched and most of me aching. I stare at the wall ahead of me for a few minutes, trying desperately to escape my thoughts. I don't want to think about this, I want to forget, even if it just is for a little bit.

I feel, right now, like I did when I was young and Dad gave me chores to do, and I wasn't sure if I'd done them all. I would usually wander around the house, fidgeting, anxious. I feel like there's extreme consequences coming for this.

I can't decide if I want to go home, or if I want to run forever.

I grab my phone and turn on the flashlight, illuminating the room. I sit up, tucking my legs under me and opening my phone, checking my email. Riley emailed me about a day ago, going on and on about school, amongst other things. I don't bother with replying at the moment, and chuck it to the other side of the bed. I change into a different shirt that's too baggy on me and open the door.

The hall is illuminated by some light shining from seemingly nowhere. I spin around, examining it. My brain is apparently still waking up, because I can't figure out where it's coming from. I'll have to remember to ask the Doctor about that later.

Every time I come across an open door, I poke my head in. There's a room with a wash and a dryer in it that look ancient. Across from that is a room with a bed in it. It's rather large and had a few pictures on the wall. I look around and see shoes on the floor. On the bedside table is a picture of a red headed women and a man, smiling at the camera. Underneath is a page that appears to be torn out of a book. I pick it up gingerly and read the first few lines.

 _Hello old friend, and here we are, you and me, the last page. By the time you read these words, Rory and I will be long gone. Just know that we lived a long life, and are very, very-_

I lose interest and return it to its place walking out of the room and closing the door quietly behind me. The next room I across a library. "Doctor?" I call out.

There's no response so I walk in. I take a few steps inside, looking around I stop, blinking a few times as I look at a swimming pool. In the library, a swimming pool.

"Oh, God." I moan, looking around the room again to make sure the Doctor isn't there.

I turn on my heel and march out of there, walking down the hall again until I find the kitchen, where the Doctor is cooking something on the stove.

"Ah, Ada, good morning. Have a seat." He gestures to the table and I sit down, opening my phone and going through it. I decide against texting anyone, since I'm not entirely sure if it will pop up in the right time. Social media seems to be working fine, though.

"Why do you have a pool in the library?" I ask.

He turns to grin at me and I raise my eyebrows at him.

"You like that?" He asks.

I shrug nonchalantly.

"It seems like a bit of design flaw. Water right next to books?"

"Not any books I like, though," He says.

I chuckle, "Why would you bother with books you don't like?"

"So they aren't splashed with water. Keep up, Ada."

I snort, rolling my eyes. He sets a plate of eggs in front of me.

"Thanks," I murmur, setting my phone on the table in front of me.

The Doctor is quiet for a long moment, which is unusual for him. Usually he'll made idle small talk, or discuss politics from thirty years ago. Right now he seems to be mulling something over in his head, something really important, if his somber expression is anything to go on.

"Ada," He's using the same tone Jesse does when he's really serious. Like when I failed an exam in school, or when he told me he was moving to America. I set down my fork on the table and will myself to look straight into his eyes, though I probably can't say much for my expression.

"Who…" He swallows, breaking eye contact and examining his hands. "Who hurt you?"

Why would he ask that? He _knows_ who it was. He knows what happened! What will saying out loud do except for cause me pain?

I open and close my mouth a few times to speak, but don't find the strength. I close my eyes, taking a deep breath.

"I don't want to talk about it." I whisper.

"Ada…"

"I said I don't want to talk about it, Doctor!" I hiss, standing up and knocking the chair behind me in the process. He looks hurt by my words, his face crumpling.

"Can we just forget about it?" I wipe tears out of my eyes that I didn't notice off of my face and sniff, my eyes cast on the ground.

"No." Is all he offers before he brushes past me and walks out of the room.

I wait a while before following him into the control room. I linger in the doorway for a few moments, listening to him move around on the floor. He's stomping a little, like being passive aggressive will help anything.

I slowly walk up the stairs and stand there, waiting for him to tell me what to do. If he's angry at me I expect he'll ignore me or yell at me.

He does neither, and turns to me, a smile on his face.

"All of time and space, the entire universe," He gestures to the T.A.R.D.I.S. console, a smile playing on his lips. "What do you want to see first?"

I chuckle nervously, wringing my hands together.

"Can we go to the past?"

"Yes! Good choice, Adaline!"

"Anywhere particular?" He asks.

"Rome!"

He grins, gesturing for me to come over.

"Pull that lever down when I say, then press the grey button."

I nod, staring fixedly at the control platform, waiting for my cue.

"Now," He says.

I do as he said, a small feeling of accomplishment in me.

"Where did you learn to do this?" I ask.

"Gallifrey, I missed most of the classes though."

"Why did they let you have a space ship!?"

"Hit that button," He orders, gesturing to the button in front of me. "And they didn't. I stole her."

I freeze, my hand hovering over the button for a couple seconds.

"Like, for real?"

"Yup!" He smiles at me, like stealing is some massive accomplishment. Though, I suppose it could be.

"Oh, my gosh!" I stare at him with a mix of disbelief and admiration.

"You actually st-" I'm cut off by the machine jerking violently, throwing me to the ground. I scream, covering my face with my arms.

I'm winded for about thirty seconds before I sit up. The room in clouded with smoke, and as soon as I breathe in I start coughing.

"Doctor?"

"It's fine- it's fine!" The Doctor says, right before another burst of smoke comes out of the console.

"Oh, that's not…" He wrestles with the console for a minute- "…good."

"Doctor?" I ask.

"Um…"

I start to feel lightheaded as I inhale more of the smoke.

"I think we should evacuate," he says.

"Aren't we in space?"

"There is a very good chance that we just crash landed." He extends his hand and helps me get to my feet.

"I'm fine," I sigh, covering my mouth with the collar of my shirt.

The light outside burns my eyes at first, and I step back, feeling desperately dizzy. I crouch, covering my face with my hands.

The Doctor puts his hand on my shoulder which I don't push away.

"I feel like I've been choked," I murmur. "Which, by the way, sucks!' I uncover my eyes, blinking a few times in the light.

"Where are we?" I ask.

"Earth. America. Two thousand and eleven."

I laugh breathlessly, looking around.

"That's so cool!"

We're on the side of a road beside a field, no one in sight. Someone turns the corner and drives past us, leaving a cloud of dust in the air.

"Can we go places?" I ask. "Like, are we going to change something important inadvertently?"

"Um..." He's quiet for a moment. "Just, avoid important looking things. And don't talk about technology of your time, or any time after right now."

"Got it."

I look around the area around us, completely fascinated. The Doctor turns around, examining the T.A.R.D.I.S.

"She's repairing herself. She'll be completely fine in a little bit."

"Let's go look around," I suggest. "See the town."

He nods, turning in a full circle to examine the area around us. "That way!" He says, pointing down the road and grabbing my hand.

"How far do you think we are from a town or city?"

"About two miles."

"Probably good we don't have the T.A.R.D.I.S…. people wouldn't know what to do with a bigger-on-the-inside time machine, 'specially in this day and age."

He laughs. "Probably not."

I stare at the town's entrance sign, trying to read it. It's too far away to make out.

 _Welcome to Alanville Kansas._

"We're in Kansas."

I glance at the Doctor briefly before a flash of light sparks and he disappears. I spin around, throwing my hands in the air.

"Doctor!"

He if five feet in front of me, laying on the ground with wide eyes focused on the sky.

"Bloody Hell," He murmurs, sitting up and holding his hand against his head.

"What happened?" I stammer, standing still.

"Force field," He grunts. I offer my hand to help him up. He pulls out his sonic and scans the air in front of us.

"It's only susceptible to aliens! That'll explain why it didn't hurt you!"

He presumable disables it as he starts walking again, this time through where it was. I catch up to him after a moment of hesitation.

"Why is there a force field?"

"That is the question…" he pauses for a moment. "And I really do have no idea."

I gawk at him for a moment.

"You!? I thought you knew everything!"

He laughs.

"I guess there's a first time for everything."

The road in the town in dirt, and the building are all old and faded. People wear clothes especially odd, like jean skirts with floral designs, boots that look like they're from an old western, despite this being a fairly sizable town. We walk by an RV and I gawk at it.

 _I freaking love the past!_

"This is so cool!"

The Doctor smiles at me, then returns to looking around the town for a moment.

"Do you think that the reason why there's a force field on the outskirts of the town is because the government is actually trying to keep aliens out?" I ask.

"Not likely. The technology is far too advanced for anything of this time, or your time, really." He says. "It's aliens or other time travelers put them up."

I think for a moment about this. Who would possible come all the way to earth just to set up a force field to block aliens out of a town? Time travelers seem to be the only logical explanation, though I can't see that.

"Do other people have time travel?" I ask.

"Sure. Humans even invent it around—" He glances at me and cuts himself off.

"Spoilers."

I'm quiet for a few more moments.

"Maybe it's there to keep you out specifically?" I offer.

The Doctor stops in his tracks for a moment before moving again.

"Possibly." He says.

"Okay… I guess we should start with who would want to keep you away from them?" I ask.

"Could be anyone." He says.

I laugh, then look at him. The look on his face is enough to make me completely believe that he has thousands of enemies.

"Well… Not anyone, yeah?" He gives me another look and I turn away, defeated.

I curse under my breath, just loud enough that he won't hear me.

We walk for a few more minutes in a silence that is very familiar, and not at all uncomfortable. The Doctor stares around the town, no judgement, just the curiosity of someone trying to understand the world around him.

I can't imagine what he sees. I mean, as interesting as it is to be in the past, see how those lives before you, I don't see much that's different about it. People are still people. They're causing problems, falling in love, dying. All routine.

His eyes lock on a woman walking into the store across the street from us and he frowns.

Fancy some ice cream?" The Doctor asks.

I shrug nonchalantly and follow him into the parlor. The room we enter is rather large, with tall tables set up through the room. At the very back is the freezers which hold the ice cream, with an odd looking woman behind the counter. It's not that there's anything wrong with her appearance, it's that it's too… normal. Everything about it is bland and forgettable. Brown hair, brown eyes, a pale face with an ordinary nose.

I find I can't really focus on any of it. She seems to be… blurry. Like she's flickering in and out of the world.

"Can I help you?" She asks.

I rub my eyes and the Doctor says, "Yes, I'd like a bowl of strawberry ice cream."

She turns to me expectantly.

Did her face just flicker?

"Vanilla medium cone, please."

She nods and turns around, making my cone first.

"Five forty two." She says.

The Doctor holds out three dollars, and I find myself trying again to focus on the outline of her face. It doesn't work this time either.

"Thank you!" The Doctor chirps, startling me out of my musings. I repeat the phrase and follow him quickly out of the room.

"You noticed it too, I assume?" He asks.

I nod numbly.

"Good."

He stops talking from there, and I realize something. If I were asked to describe this woman, I wouldn't be able to. Her entire image has been wiped from my brain.

We sit down at a table outside of the parlor.

"Eat your ice cream." He says after a minute.

I nod, staring across the street absently while I eat. I feel worlds away from my home, but I suppose it would be easier to get home if it were just that. Time travel? If it weren't for the Doctor I'd never see home again.

"I think I have an idea." He's quiet for a moment after saying that, then turns to me.

"Ada, will you go wait in the T.A.R.D.I.S. for me?"

"What?"

"I don't want you to get hurt. I have an idea of what's going on."

I open my mouth to object, then nod.

"Yes, sir."

"Good. And don't wander off." He points at me.

"I mean it,"

"I won't."

"No, really."

"Fine."

He stares at me, as if he doesn't believe me.

"I'm going to listen to you, Doctor."

He stares at me for another moment, before sighing.

"Right. Um, yes. Do that."

He turns around, and in a few seconds has turned the corner.

I stare after him for a moment before turning around myself and walking back to the T.A.R.D.I.S.

I sit underneath the console, scrolling through my phone with music playing softly.

I avoid making any sort of obvious presence on social media, worried about when it might pop up on my timeline.

After a few minutes I sigh, turning off my phone and closing my eyes. The Doctor didn't give me any idea about how long it would take him to do- whatever he's doing.

I feel a gentle buzz start to come from the console, which turns into a gentle thump.

 _Thump, thump, thump._

I smile, a sense of peace filling me. I stop hearing all other sounds, the thumping filling all of me. The sound of a heartbeat.

 _Find him._

The voice fills my head and I sit bolt upright. It was completely clear, yet simultaneously soft. It comes from nowhere.

Before I have time to think, I act completely impulsively. I drop my phone as I get to my feet, stumbling as I lunge forwards towards the door. I open the door and run towards the town at my highest speed.

When I get to the town I stop, turning around in a circle before groaning. I have no idea where I'm going!

Someone brushes my shoulder as they walk by me, and I turn sharply, making eye contact with them.

Their face is blurred, like the woman's at the ice cream shop and I frown. They turn away immediately and I'm left stunned for a few moments.

I stare after him and feel my blood run cold and panic fills me.

Hanging halfway out of his pocket is the Doctor's sonic.

It falls out and hits the ground with a small ding, and I stare at it.

 _What the Hell is happening?_

 **Really, really lame ending, and chapter at that. I know. I'm trying! I do have a plan for this. I'm not just running blindly through this.**

 **SOOO, I guess I should address why this took me so long.**

 **I've sort of gotten writers block, as well as laziness, as well as rehearsal every single night for the past like three weeks. (Not including weekends) And I fell majorly behind in math. I do have excuses!**

 **I've been feeling really bummed out in general lately, so could you please leave a review…? I know I sound really needy but it would really make my day! I love you all!**


	6. Pity

**Wassup peeps! *dabs* this took** ** _forever._** **Good news is that most of the next chapter is written and you can expect it soon. Ish.**

 **So, I know that there's people out there who see that an author has updated, checks the word count and is like "Oh, only eighty words? That's not a chapter I'm not reading this. And then don't. Which is totally lame but whatever.**

 **I also know some people don't read ANs which is also lame! So anyways I'm on tumblr, look for Aubrey Cortez and I'm on it. That's me.**

 **Also, no more regular updating schedule. It was nice while it lasted but if you know me you know it was doomed from the start.**

 **Also also, published a new story. Go read it! (It's supernatural)**

 **And finally, throughout this chapter, the aliens will be using they/them pronouns. (Aliens probably don't even have gender roles in their society, it's likely gender wouldn't exist either.) SO, there aren't multiples. There is one unless otherwise specified. (If you don't think that they and them are valid pronouns, bite me. (So much for the professional vibes I've been going for.)**

 **NO TRANSPHOBIA IS ALLOWED ON MY PROFILE**

 **This is a safe space for all queer peoples.**

 **Also, I'm gay. Just putting that out there. (Technically I'm a lesbian, but that label doesn't really… fit.)**

 **So anyways, no homophobia anyways.**

 **Triggers are listed at the bottom.**

 **This chapter is not edited.**

 **IMPORTANT AN AT THE BOTTOM**

 **I don't own Doctor Who. Who do you think I am? Moffat? Well, by the end of this story you might just think so.**

The entire setup reads as too perfect.

"Hello?" I call.

No one answers.

"Anybody home?"

Nothing.

I move through the house slowly, looking for some indication of… anything.

Every bedroom is perfectly neat, the kitchen and dining room show no sign of ever being used, and the hallways are the only place where toys are. Do American children only play in hallways?

I crouch down, inspecting the mess.

There's no apparent pattern for the mess. There are dolls scattered around, toy cars piled on top of each other. It looks like there's a mess on purpose.

Which explains why it would be in the hall.

We always played in the living room.

I stand up straight.

Where is the living room?

I retrace my steps to the front door, and stare down the hall. There is the doorway to the dining room that leads to the kitchen which leads to the laundry room.

At the end of the hallway are the bedrooms. There are three. The entire right side wall is blank.

I walk down the hall slowly, tracing my hand against it. At first, I just feel the wall. Nothing, nothing, nothing. I stop in my tracks as my hand brushed against something.

Something wooden.

I knock on it softly and feel it's hollow.

I crouch down, using both of my hands to trace alongside the edges. It's most certainly a door. I pat down on it until I feel a doorknob. I twist it and find it locked.

I pull out the sonic and scan the door, and it suddenly appears in front of me.

"Oh, brilliant." I twist the doorknob and open the door.

When I walk in, I find the Doctor sitting upside down on a flower couch. He has his head in his hands, and I think he might be crying.

"Oh, what do you want now?" He groans.

"To leave this house, I think."

His head jerks up to look at me, his eyes red.

"Ada!" He jumps to his feet, hugging me tightly.

"How did you find me?" He asks, holding me at arms-length.

"Magic. Luck. I kind of wandered off."

He smiles and hugs me again, for longer than is strictly necessary.

"Brilliant!"

He takes my hand and pulls me out of the room.

"We need to go!" he says.

 _~The Doctor's point of view, earlier~_

Bored. He was entirely bored in this room. He'd resorted to going through what he could find in the room- including knickknacks on the shelf.

The door opens and he turns to see the person who had taken him here.

"What do you want?" He asks.

"I want to know what you are."

"Why am I here?" The Doctor persists, ignoring the question.

"Because," they drawl. "You are not human."

"Why do you care?" The Doctor asks.

"It is our job to find non-humans, it is our job to eliminate them."

"Why eliminate them?"

"The humans cannot handle extra-terrestrial life. It is to protect them."

"Well, that's my job."

"What are you?"

"I'm the Doctor."

The thing stares at him for a moment, and the Doctor dares them to question him.

"Why do you care about humans, you clearly aren't one."

There is a moment of silence.

"We require you cooperation, if you will not answer my question, I will make you."

The Doctor rolls his eyes.

"And how do you plan on doing that?"

The thing pulls out, something that resembled a remote control, then scrolled through it.

"The Doctor," They mumble.

"Ah."

They're silent for about a minute while they read something, then look up, smiling.

"Time Lord." They smirk at him.

They show him pictures that appear on screen, of him in previous forms, previous companions. Amy, Rory, Martha, Sarah Jane.

The Doctor glances up at them.

The screen stops on Ada.

It's a picture of her with short hair, something she has never had before. She's carrying a book bag in one hand and is smiling brightly at something he can't see.

It's taken from a far off perspective, a stalker.

The word "identified" shows up on screen.

"We have her whereabouts from, about fifteen minutes ago." They say.

"Every half hour, this resets. Identifying the whereabouts of everything in the area we are in control of."

The Doctor keeps his eyes fixed on the screen, not looking away. _What do they want with Ada?_

"Does she mean something to you?" The Doctor nods slowly.

"A shame. You should have answered the question."

His head whips up, his eyes full of alarm.

"Don't! Don't you dare lay a finger on her!"

The creature is already walking away.

"If you touch her, I will kill you!" he bellowed, banging on the door.

He shouts for another five minutes before giving up.

 _~Ada's point of view, now~_

"Why- where are we going!?" I shout.

He pulls me through the house and out the back door before turning to me, pointing a finger in my direction.

"Where were you twenty minutes ago?"

I blink rapidly. "T.A.R.D.I.S., I think."

"Are you sure?" He asks.

"Pretty- pretty sure!"

He inhales quickly.

"Okay, we need a plan." He says, and I nod along.

"They'll be at the T.A.R.D.I.S. by now, and realize you're not there."

"Why are they looking for me?"

He waves me off, concentrating on the task at hand.

"They'll have your coordinates soon,"

He closes his eyes, nodding slightly.

"I know what we're doing."

We waited a few minutes and ran back to the T.A.R.D.I.S.

"Are we just going to fly away?" I ask, leaning over the barrier to see him ruffling through just underneath the console.

"No, of course not. Never run when you're scared, rule number four."

I nod slowly, and he turns back to his search.

"What are you looking for?" I question, leaning further over the rail.

"It- it sort of looks like a mirror type thing."

"What does it do?"

"It'll identify what species they are."

I form an o with my mouth, nodding.

"Good idea."

"Yes, well, it would be! If I could find the bloody thing!"

I smile, and he disappears further under the console.

"Maybe you should consider getting rid of some of this junk." I suggest.

"Junk!?"

I follow him down and hum thoughtfully.

"Do you really need this?" I ask, picking up a sword.

"That was a gift from King Tut!"

"Do you even know how to use a sword?"

"I could learn."

I laugh, setting it down.

"It's heavy. I learned with lighter blades."

"You know how to use a sword?"

I nod. "I went to private school, it's the only self-defense they taught us."

"Aha!" He lunges down and grabs a mirror.

"Is that it?" I ask.

"Yep!"

"What do we do now?"

"We wait.

I don't speak as we wait, and it occurs to me that there is no real plan in place here, and that scares me.

I have to wonder if I can trust the Doctor.

Obviously he knows how to keep himself alive, but he could be anything. He could be an indestructible immortal, he's an alien for heaven's sake.

I'm just a human.

I'm not the first to travel with him, I know I'm not the last, and I have to wonder what happened to the others.

Everything he does is reckless.

"Don't worry, everything is going to be okay."

In my house, the truth was dangerous. If you wanted to avoid the whip you learned to say what Dad wanted to hear. It was something you got used to, good at. By the age of nine I was a better liar than anyone could've thought.

I got out of a lot of trouble that way, at home and at school.

It was ridiculously easy to tell the teacher that the class clown had stolen their lunch when you had a perfect record.

It was all to do with my situation at home, so I was practiced enough to never get caught.

Anyways- all of this is to say that as I am a practiced liar, I can tell when someone is lying to me.

"Got it."

He glances at me, looking confused and, is he sad? Why does he always do that? I'm not a fucking puppy- there's nothing sad here!

I cross my arms, annoyed. If he notices, he doesn't comment of it.

I read a lengthy email from Riley, which is essentially him bitching about school. He's the only one I let rant to me, since he actually makes his stories funny.

"What are you laughing at?" The Doctor asks, attempting to lighten the mood.

"Just my dumbass brother." I shake my head, smiling. The Doctor raises his eyebrows and I elaborate.

"He argued with some of his classmates today- and, um-" I shake my head, closing my eyes and holding out my phone to him.

"Just- just read it. I'm bad at translating stories."

He scans the phone briefly and hands it back, smiling.

"You didn't read it?"

"I did."

I stare at him for a long moment before shrugging, turning back to my scrolling.

It's a few minutes later when he gets up, fiddling with the controller.

I get to my feet and follow behind him.

He's looking at the screen above the console which shows the blurry figures out there.

"Perception filter." He murmurs.

He turns around, grabbing the mirror and looking at them in it. I ignore this odd behavior and focus on the figures.

"Oh! I know what to do!" I stare at him for a moment, before offering my help.

"Yes- go research them in the library. I think I know what to do!"

I stand there for a moment after he leaves and stare at the mirror.

He knows what to do. He doesn't need me to research them- hell, he hasn't even told me what to research.

The petty side of me decides to jot down the names of these creatures from the mirror and dart to the library.

It takes me two minutes to find a book on them, and I position myself on the stairs to read it. I glance at the security camera footage every couple of seconds, each time less determined to focus on my book.

He's holding a giant water gun whilst he appears to be negotiating.

I frown, trying to remember a line I'm sure I read.

I open the book, my eyes darting around the paper before finding the line.

 _They are not weakened by water- this is a common misconception. Their true weakness is vinegar._

I reread the line twice before swearing violently and running to the kitchen. I rummage through the cabinets as quickly as possible- knocking cans and dining wear over.

I finally find the gallon sized tub of it and stare at it for a long minute.

"Fucking hell!" I grab the container and run back to the console room.

My arms is aching, probably because of the multiple times I've nearly yanked it out of socket in thirty seconds, and I open the door.

I find myself facing the Doctor, who is on his knees with his hands in the air, a gun pointed to his head.

I panic- pulling the lid off of the container and splashing it in the figures face. Something flickers there briefly and they withdraw, their face scrunching up with pain.

I don't think before I lose control any spray the liquid everywhere.

There's screaming. Horrid, wretched, screaming.

I realize my eyes are clenched shut and open them, looking around.

They're all crouched over, writhing in pain.

"Well, there we go then." I say, genuinely surprised that I'm not dead right now.

"Ada," The Doctor breathes.

I turn to him, suddenly incredibly pissed off.

"Do you know how much fucking water is in the atmosphere? The air we breathe? Fuck- there's a goddamned giant fucking puddle right there!"

I sigh, running a hand through my hair.

"Fuck." I add, just for good measure.

The Doctor drops the aliens off at their home planet, where they're incarcerated. Afterwards, the Doctor cleans up the mess in the kitchen while I watch.

This, I decide, is what it always looks like. Travelling with the Doctor means constantly going up against aliens like this.

And you know what? I'm okay with that.

But the lingering feeling of hurt and doubt stays with me long after he asked me to stay behind. The blatant distrust was evident, and I can't imagine this ever being successful if he cannot trust me with the most basic of things he's involved in.

It occurs to me that he's only allowing me to be here because he pities me.

I blink back tears, staring at him.

"Doctor?" I ask quietly.

He turns to me and I somehow manage to say, "I want to go home."

 **Triggers are violence and excessive swearing.**

 _ **guest reviews**_

 **So, it occurred to me this morning that I forgot to answer guest reviews in the last chapter. (I'm really super sorry! So I plan on updating with this as a chapter, and in a couple of days I'll take it down and just add it to the A/N so that you guys can see it. Thanks a million!**

Galarvis

Oh wow, this is pretty good so far. It's usually hard to find quality OC fanfics that doesn't have romance as a main genre. By the way, are there gonna be any interludes (small or full on chapters) that are from the Doctor's point of view? I'm curious to see his own thoughts on meeting her. Anyways, I can't wait for you to update! Keep up the good work!

 **Thank you! I actually made a point of making all of my stories at least somewhat romance based, which is why this FanFiction is so different for me.**

 **Most of the time it's only romance based because I'm like "I'm fitting as much representation into this story if it kills me." So there's a lot of queer characters**

 **Yes! The next chapter has multiple perspectives. It should be uploaded soon enough**

 **Thank you again!**

Alex

Hey, this is great and intriguing :-)

 **Thank you so much!**

DocOfAllTrades

i absolutely LOVE this story! i hope you update it soon!

 **Thank you so much! I didn't update soon last time, but my next chapter is already mostly written!**

 **IMPORTANT. PLEASE READ.**

 **Alright loves, we need to talk. I'm having an absolutely miserable writing this story. It's been published for six months, I've worked harder on it than any other piece of writing I've ever done, and it have nine reviews. This is a twenty four thousand word fanfiction! Do you know how much work that takes? And not** ** _one_** **of you have reviewed twice.**

 **I absolutely want to finish this story but** ** _fuck_** **guys, I can't do this if you don't think it's worth your time to leave a review.**

 **Just tell me if you're reading. Let me know. Hell, I'll be happy if you just comment like three words.** ** _I just need something._**

 **You, yes you, are very much capable of reviewing.**

 **I actually hate to have to say this. I don't like begging for reviews, but I would appreciate it if you at least bothered to take this half as seriously as I do.**


	7. update

hey! guess who isn't dead!

so, a little background on where i am in this story.

i am _swamped_ with just stuff going on in my life! like, i'm tired all the time it's crazy. and i just don't have the time for writing like i used to.

and i do want to update, but looking back on this story i know there's a lot of room for improvement in what i've written, and i want to edit a bit.

its been so long- i don't really have much spark left for this. any ideas on how to proceed with the story?


End file.
